The Unfixables
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: When let off from Azkaban on a second chance, Barty Crouch Jr. turns into Xenophilius's worst nightmare back to haunt him and his daughter. To fulfill old vows, an ex-murderer and a war heroine are brought together under unconventional and unwanted circumstances leading to very unexpected romance. (Not an arranged marriage fic) WARNING: Violence, Swearing, Sexual Content.
1. The Return

**A.N: **Trying out my patience with another multi-chap HP fic. My last one, "Monster", wasn't working out so well so I removed it for editing. I have a lot of challenges on the ball too, so this might be slow updating – if you like it, please be patient with me! As always, please read and review to keep me motivated!

Just a little explanation before anyone gets confused. This is set post Hogwarts, immediately after Luna's seventh year. I won't go too far into this so as not to spoil the story, but everything has gone as JK wrote in the novel – Harry killed Voldemort, etc – I've just added my own little change to make an AU.

* * *

oOo

[It was impossible,  
They were never meant to be.  
He was broken, wrecked, and utterly unfixable.  
How could she fall for someone  
Who was such a figure of death?  
It was traitorous – and against everything she stood for.

But,  
Her strangeness enticed him,  
Wrapped him, blessed him, and nourished him.  
Slowly, he would begin to grow again  
The unfixable  
Would become fixed.]

oOo

The Dark Days were over. People were rising from the depths of their fears, and living their lives freely, as they were meant to. People were happy, moving on, having children – doing all the things that made life worth living.

But the Battle of Hogwarts, as well as the existing problems that Voldemort had already caused, meant that a lot of heirs of prestigious pure-blooded families had either died out, or come to the end of their bloodlines, after producing no further offspring. The re-instated Ministry of Magic were working hard on the fears that faced them – it was likely there would be no pure-blood wizards and witches long in the future, and the continuous breeding with muggles would result in the wizarding race dying out altogether. It was long in the future that these fears were being considered, but it was a fear enough to make the Ministry consider taking immediate action.

It was unfortunate; however, that most of the once prestigious pure-blood families, had either turned out to be Death Eaters, or were sentenced to Azkaban. That or they inbred too close within their families in order to maintain purity. This often resulted in mentally disabled offspring, or Squibs. So the Ministry had a choice to make. They could either keep on allowing life to go on as it would, which would ultimately result in the future shortening of their race – or they could take action. They didn't want to force arranged marriages on the people of Britain, that was a much too medieval prospect, and they didn't want to upset people or cause too much trouble. But say, if there were more pure-blooded wizards and witches around, then they would be more likely to procreate. So the Ministry came up with the decision – albeit, the extremely stupid decision – to give the majority of prisoners within Azkaban a 'second chance'.

It was a one-time offer. Death Eaters who remained alive after Voldemort's downfall, people who were imprisoned for their own crimes – they were to all be emptied from the cells of Azkaban and filtered back into Britain. Their task simply being – to integrate themselves into a normal society, get themselves a proper job, marry a witch or a wizard, and produce more witches and wizards. It was easy, and it benefited them, too. They had a whole other chance to reform their lives. But it was only _one _chance. If there were even the slightest hints that they had ruined their opportunity to be a part of the world, they would be swept back to Azkaban immediately.

The _Daily Prophet _had released a huge article about this, which sent people, naturally, into uproar. They had been living for a year in bliss, with no fears of Death Eaters or Voldemort, and now the Ministry planned to release them all back into the world, like a plague? It was an outrage. It was madness. People questioned whether Voldemort was actually dead, and if this was another one of his plans. Theories sparked across the nation; the world was going to return back to its dark past. No one seemed willing to accept that the Ministry were simply offering the inmates a chance to reform themselves. Every inmate that had been released was given a statement in the _Daily Prophet_, some of these included familiar names like Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Pius Thicknesse, who had been imprisoned despite being under the Imperius Curse, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, the slightly dim Stan Shunpike, who had also been believed to be acting under the Imperius Curse, and Bartemius Crouch, Jr. There were more, of course there were more – but these were some that graced the first few pages of the _Daily Prophet_, as memorable names to its readers. Some of the inmates were ecstatic to be released, such as Stan Shunpike and Pius Thicknesse – as technically, they didn't do anything wrong in the first place (if it was true that they had been acting under the Imperius curse, as a lot of people were in two minds about it). Other people didn't seem to care, such as the Carrow twins and the Lestrange brothers – it was likely that they would sooner go back to Azkaban than have relations with someone muggle-born or half-blood. Rodolphus Lestrange had already been married to Bellatrix Black, and you didn't really get more pure-blooded than her.

But unfortunately, there were no longer any Black's, so he would either have to make do with what he could get, or head straight back to Azkaban.

The one who shocked everyone the most, naturally, was Barty Crouch Jr. The _Prophet _had told all of Britain that the imposter who spent 1995 disguised as the late Alastor Moody, and had - after causing trouble during the Triwizard Tournament and succeeding in helping Voldemort rise once again (though, the Ministry didn't make this known) - received the Dementor's Kiss, for his crimes. This had turned out to be an elaborated lie – the _Prophet _had admitted this just before the extract that was Barty Crouch's release statement. They had allowed the world to believe he had received the Dementor's Kiss, and would probably end up dying in Azkaban, just so that the rest of Britain would rest safely in their beds.

It was just another thing that caused uproar amongst witches and wizards in Britain. They despised being lied to, and despised even more, the fact that the Ministry would release someone who committed as many crimes as he did, and was as loyal to Voldemort as it later turned out he was. But there was nothing that the public could do, other than read the statement that was listed underneath the slightly maniacal picture of Barty Crouch:

_"I, Bartemius Crouch, Jr. have answered for my crimes committed against the Wizarding World of Britain. I desperately hope that you will accept me back into your lives as another one of you, as I want this second chance at life more than anything I have ever wanted. I regret everything I have ever done, everyone I ever maimed or killed, and I desperately hope that I can prove this to you all.  
Sincerely, Bartemius Crouch, Jr."_

Somewhere much further South, in a house that was shaped oddly like a rock, Xenophilius Lovegood had just dropped his newspaper. He fled out of his house to the river where he knew his daughter would be sitting, leaving the newspaper open with the shuddering, black and white image of Barty Crouch Jr.


	2. Mr Lovegood's Vow

**A.N: **This is mainly a little bit of history. I hope you will excuse any mismatched timeframes – I didn't actually find out when Xeno Lovegood was born, so I'm simply assuming him to be a student at this point. Please don't hold anything against me about it!

* * *

oOo

_1962_

It was a problem that went back generations, all in relation to blood-purity. From early generations, families would find themselves doing other families favours, all in return for another favour, later on. Some things would be minor – you borrowed a cup of sugar from me, so I deserve one back – that kind of frivolous behaviour. However, other things were a lot darker, especially when dealing with the more manipulative kind.

When Xenophilius Lovegood was fifteen, he had engaged in the worst type of sin that most pure-blood families held high. During his time at Hogwarts, he had seduced, and had sexual relations with (on numerous occasions) the youngest Crouch daughter. She was fourteen at the time, and the younger sister of Bartemius Crouch (soon to be Senior, when he would have his famed son).

Nevertheless, Barty Crouch Sr. found out about this atrocity, and told his father immediately. His father was initially less inclined to be bothered with this, instead deciding to lay the blame on his daughter, who he called 'reckless' and 'immature'. However, Barty Crouch Sr's mother was a lot harsher. Her name was Charis Crouch, and she was previously of Black descendant, the third daughter of Arcturus Black II, and her views on this were appalling. As Xenophilius was half-blood, she simply could not accept it. He had taken her daughter's virginity, and in her mind, this meant that they should marry – but she would simply not allow her pure-blood daughter to marry someone like Xenophilius.

So Charis Crouch condemned Xenophilius to death, the moment he would set foot outside of Hogwarts in his final year. She was an elderly lady, but from what he had heard, a ferocious dueller. She warned him that he would be at her mercy, and there was no greater punishment than death, and nothing that would make her happier to see the life leaving Xenophilius' eyes.

However, as the years grew closer to his end of Hogwarts, he heard news that Charis Crouch had died – apparently of a broken heart, as her youngest daughter had fled Hogwarts, and her life, to elope with a muggle, of all people. So, while he didn't want to appear glad that someone had _died_, he left Hogwarts feeling happy, elated, and thankful to be on the earth, with no crazy old lady waiting in Hogsmeade to murder him.

It did not go quite to plan, however.

There was no crazy old lady, but there was a crazy old man. Mr Crouch, Charis' husband, was left to deal with the death of his late wife. He grabbed Xenophilius as soon as he set foot off the train in Kings Cross. He was getting on now, and his back was hunched, so he'd had to reach up to grab the younger boy, but he got hold of him nonetheless.

"My wife went mad with rage," he told Xenophilius in a low, cracked voice. "She couldn't bear the idea that our daughter abandoned us, abandoned her education – all for a muggle boy from Hogsmeade."

"I know, Mr Crouch," Xenophilius had replied, carefully. "But honestly, I had no idea that she had-"

"—Shh!" he hissed. "Don't you lie to me, boy. This is entirely your fault, you hear me?"

Xenophilius nodded, swallowing hard.

"Charis had one last request before she died of a broken heart, boy, do you know what that was?" Mr Crouch was removing his wand from his robes as he spoke. Xenophilius felt panic rising like bile in his stomach – this was the end of his short life. He would never marry, never have children – he was going to be killed right here, right now, all because of a stupid mistake he made two years ago! Because he thought with his nether regions instead of his brain! He screwed his eyes up, awaiting the inevitable, and shook his head in answer. "She told me that I had to make you pay for your mistake. But I'm not going to kill you."

Xenophilius opened his eyes. "You're not?"

"No. I happened to think that our daughter was a frightful child – she was just asking to be abjured from our family since the day she was born. She never wanted to head in the right direction. But I did love Charis with all my heart – she was my reason for existence. Whatever she wanted, I would comply with. I know that you have been the bane of her life since you…you…"

"Inseminated your youngest daughter?" Xenophilius finished, automatically. Mr Crouch looked like he had been slapped in the face.

"You crude, disgusting boy! No. I'm not going to kill you, because killing you would be too easy. But you are going to pay for this. Hold out your hand."

"Why?"

"You are going to make the Unbreakable Vow with me."

"What if I refuse?" Xenophilius challenged, arching an eyebrow. Mr Crouch stared at him stoically, his face rigid.

"You don't get to refuse. If you run, I will kill you. If you try anything stupid – you will die. I have a lot of power within the Ministry, Mr Lovegood. I can have you murdered or locked up in Azkaban for the remainder of your days – believe me, I will do it."

Xenophilius opened his mouth to retaliate, but closed it, sighing. There was no way out of this. He would just have to make whatever promise Mr Crouch expected him to. But, there was one thing he had noticed. "You need a third party to cast an Unbreakable Vow. There are only two of us here."

"You are wrong, there," a sudden, high pitched voice called. It was then that Mr Crouch's son, Bartemius (the first), appeared. He had apparently just apparated, and was walking towards them, his Ministry robes and cloak billowing behind them. Bartemius Crouch Sr. was a proud, upright man, with a thick, masculine moustache. He had recently been employed as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and as rumour had it, his wife was expecting his first child – a boy. His pride was very evident, with the way he strutted towards his father and the one that had taken the innocence of his younger sister. "I will be casting the Unbreakable Vow. You will link hands."

Mr Crouch reached out and grabbed Xenophilius' hand roughly. "Wait," Xenophilius began. "Can't we just talk about this first? What is it that you want me to do? Does it really need the Unbreakable Vow?"

There was a menacing glint in his eye. "Believe me, Mr Lovegood, the Unbreakable Vow is needed."

As their hands were locked together, Barty whipped his wand out from his robes with a flourish. He held it over the linked hands of the two men, and nodded to his father to begin.

"Will you, Xenophilius Lovegood, promise to do exactly what I tell you to after this given moment?"

"I will," Xenophilius replied, feeling his breath catch in his throat. A single stream of light poured from Barty's wand and wound around their hands.

"Will you, Xenophilius Lovegood, should you have one, promise to hand your first daughter over to my Grandson, when she becomes of age?"

"I—_what?_" screeched Xenophilius suddenly. This was outrageous. This wasn't the 16th century. Women weren't just _handed _to random men and objectified like that. It just wasn't appropriate. Panic was rising in his voice. This was much worse than he had expected.

Mr Crouch pursed his lips briefly, and then repeated the request. "Will you, Xenophilius Lovegood, should you have one, promise to hand your first daughter over to my Grandson, when she becomes of age?"

Xenophilius looked down at their hands, tied together by the glimmering stream of light. That crafty, crafty old codger. He had already made Xenophilius promise to do exactly what he told him to, so now he really had no way out of this. If he were to break away from the Vow, he would die instantly. It was a cruel incantation, but he had landed himself in it, well and truly. He could only hope – and pray – that he could perhaps abstain from having a child. That, or beg and plead with the heavens that he would give birth to bouncing baby boys, and not a single girl would bless his household. He couldn't get out of this now. "I will," he murmured, slowly. There was a lump forming in his throat. A second stream of light poured out of Barty's wand and entwined with the first.

"And will you, Xenophilius Lovegood, ensure that you will never tell your daughter – should you have one – about this arrangement until she becomes of age?"

"I will." A third and final stream of light left the wand, combining with the three. They held fast for a moment, and then faded – but Xenophilius knew the bond was still there. "What does this mean?" He asked Mr Crouch, with resentment in his eyes. "Will a daughter of mine have to _marry _this Grandson of yours?"

"Oh, heavens no," Mr Crouch said with a haughty laugh. "The Vow simply is that you will hand her over to Barty's son as soon as she becomes old enough. He may do with her as he pleases," he paused, a smirk rising on his features. "Maybe he will just…_inseminate _her, as you did my daughter."

Xenophilius looked over at Barty Crouch, feeling desperate. Barty was tucking his wand back into his robes, looking away pointedly. "Barty, you can't possibly agree with this. It's simply barbaric."

"You should have thought about your actions, Mr Lovegood," Barty replied stiffly. He didn't look as though he wholly agreed with the Vow, but he wasn't about to challenge his father. They began to walk away from Xenophilius, slowly.

"Goodbye, Mr Lovegood," Mr Crouch was bidding him, airily. "Perhaps we will meet sometime in the future! I will be sure to send you an owl when Barty's son is born!"

oOo

And, true to his word, two months later, Xenophilius Lovegood received a letter stating that Bartemius Crouch Jr. had been born healthily.


	3. Too Little, Too Late

oOo

Luna didn't really know what to expect when she saw her father, searing down the hill towards her, his white and grey robes and cloak billowing out around him. She stared at him for a little while, bemused, and then returned to picking the yellow flowers that were around her.

"Luna! Luna, my darling…" her father swept her up in his arms, and hugged her dramatically. She blinked for a few moments, thinking about the flowers that had just been crushed between them, but decided to let it pass. Her father was obviously bitterly upset about something, and that was her current priority.

"Daddy, are you okay?" She asked, as she was lifted off the ground, as her father's hug grew tighter.

"You need to come inside right away. We need to talk," he said, his voice sounding unusually solemn. He lowered Luna to the ground, and started trudging back up the hill to the house. Luna continued to blink, confusion spreading across her face, but she followed her father nonetheless.

oOo

There were cameras flickering everywhere when Barty Crouch Jr. headed into the Ministry of Magic with several other previous fellow inmates. They had been released from Azkaban early in the morning, and were to spend the majority of that day in the Ministry of Magic, going through a multitude of checks. They had all subjected to numerous questions and statements – there really were a lot of rules that they had to fulfill in order to live a 'normal' and 'happy' life. The first rule on the leaflet that Barty had been given was that he had to acquire a job within three weeks, or he was to face Ministry action. The second rule was pretty much expected from them all – a trace was placed on the wands of each of them, a trace that would detect if they used any Unforgivable Curses or Dark spells. The trace also kept them monitored – they had to return to their houses by 11pm every night, and not leave again while morning.

Barty immediately considered what would happen if he left the house during the night without his wand, but shook it off with a laugh. The Ministry were crafty – they knew that any clever witch or wizard wouldn't dream of leaving the confines of their own home without their only source of protection. When he was finally whisked away from the office that tampered with his wand, he found himself being led to the lifts again, and they shot further down. They arrived outside an office that was labelled as the _Administrative Registration Department_.

The short, balding Ministry Official led Barty down a hallway after they entered the room, and showed him to a smaller office within. He pointed to a seat in front of the desk, and sat down behind it. Barty complied, sitting down slowly, and looked around the room. It was a pathetic little office, with a lopsided bookshelf on the wall in one corner, and the scenic painting that was in the shape of a window wasn't as well painted as some of the ones he'd seen in previous offices.

"My name is Stamford Jorkins, I have recently been demoted to this position of office, due to a distinct lack of employees within the Ministry, currently," Stamford Jorkins said quietly, more to himself than to Barty. He was waving his wand at a quill, which was writing on a piece of parchment, and at the same time he was reading from another sheaf of parchment. "You are aware of your current standing position, correct?"

Barty raised his eyebrows. "No. No I'm not aware."

Stamford gave a long, drawling sigh. "You are hereby released from Azkaban, the British wizarding prison. You are being blessed with your second chance, but due to the nature of the crimes you committed before you began your sentence at Azkaban, you are to be given some extra security, for at least six months."

"Extra security?" Barty sat up, clenching his hands around the bars of his seat. "What extra security? There was nothing about extra security when the Ministry-"

Stamford held up a hand to cut him off, continuing to read from his parchment. "Mr Bartemius Crouch, you were, in your own words, the most devoted servant of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"In 1981, you were part of the group that tortured the Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom to insanity, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"During the Quidditch World Cup of 1994, you stole the wand of Harry James Potter, and with it performed the _morsemorde _spell, conjuring the Dark Mark and launching it into the sky, am I correct?"

"Yes. But—"

"—In 1995, you admitted to the murder of your father, Bartemius Crouch Senior, and the transfiguration of his body to a bone. Am I correct?"

"Yes."

"And finally, in the same year of 1995, you were discovered to have admitted to the assistance of the revival of You-Know-Who, as well as a multitude of crimes, including the tampering of the Goblet of Fire to ensure Harry James Potter's name was revealed, tampering with the Triwizard Cup to send the same Harry James Potter to a graveyard where You-Know-Who would rise, and also performing three Unforgivable Curses within a classroom. Am I _correct_, Mr Crouch?"

"Yes, you are, alright?!" Barty retorted, sounding exasperated. It was all true, every word – but what did he want him to say? Repeat his tearful speech that he had released to the press? He didn't mean a word of that damn statement.

He might have done, all those years ago, when he had been an immature boy. But now he had grown, and he wasn't that boy anymore. He was cruel – Azkaban had broken him beyond belief. But he wasn't going to admit that he didn't really regret a single action - Stamford would have him thrown straight back into Azkaban if that were true, and despite not wanting to go ahead with any of the things that were expected of him when he was integrated back into society, he still craved freedom.

"So do you accept the extra security for the six month period, until you can prove yourself worthy to live a life with only minor security?" Stamford droned on.

"What does the extra security entail?" Barty asked.

"You will report to the Ministry of Magic once a week, on a Friday morning, at 9am – sharp. You will be given an assigned Ministry member who will be your consort, and together you will discuss your week. Think of it as what the muggles call…_therapy_. As well as that, you will be routinely and randomly checked on throughout your day-to-day life, notes will be compiled of your behaviour, and whether it deems to be unusual or inappropriate – in which case, we will be keeping a Dementor close by your living quarters for the six months of extra security."

It seemed fair enough. Barty had lived with over a hundred Dementors for the last few years, so he could surely deal with just one hanging around locally. He didn't like the idea of going to the Ministry every week to _report_, even less so having random checks and notes being compiled on him – almost everything Barty did constituted as unusual or inappropriate behaviour. But it was only six months…if he could act as normal as possible just for six months…

"I have some things here that may be of your interest," Stamford was saying, bringing Barty's train of thought to a standstill. He looked up, as Stamford waved his wand silently, and a black, leather box whizzed through the air and landed on the desk. Barty leaned forward, and noticed that the box held the Black family crest, with the motto below in silver lettering, _Toujours Pur. _"This box belonged to your Grandmother, Charis Black."

"I didn't know her. She died before I was born."

"Well, Charis Black's parents gave her the house that would eventually be your childhood home, Mr Crouch. As Charis married your Grandfather, the house became in the name of Crouch. It was passed to your father, Bartemius Crouch Sr, and now, even though your father left no will, the house is yours," Stamford carefully opened the lid of the leather box, and removed from it what looked like the deed of a house. "The keys are in here also, as well as some other things that belonged to your father – but I presume that you would prefer to do that in your own time." Stamford pushed the box towards Barty on the desk, and he took it, gripping it to his chest. "There's just one more thing, before you are accompanied to your home," he said, as Barty had started to stand up, assuming the meeting had climaxed. Stamford had stood up also, and was rummaging inside a pocket in his robes. He pulled out a small, thin envelope, yellowing with age. The name _Bartemius Crouch Junior _was spelled out carefully across the front of the envelope. Barty instantly recognised the lettering as his father's handwriting, and he stretched out a hand to receive the envelope.

However, Stamford didn't hand it over straight away. He held the envelope up slightly, looking disdainfully at Barty's hand, until he removed it. "As you should know, we here at the Ministry had to assess what was in this envelope."

"What!" Barty exclaimed suddenly, anger rising in his stomach. "You have no right – that is private!"

"You will find that we have every right, Mr Crouch," Stamford replied loudly, drowning out Barty's voice. "Although personally, I knew your father quite well, and know he was no such wizard – we had to check that there was nothing dark, or illegal within this envelope. Your father did of course; break the law, by breaking you out of Azkaban and replacing you with your mother."

Barty shrank back, not knowing what to say.

"But it appears that none of us can make sense of what has been written in here. It is dated from a month before you were born, and speaks of an Unbreakable Vow between your Grandfather, Casper Crouch, and a man by the name of Xenophilius Lovegood. Do you know anything about this?"

Barty shook his head, puzzled.

Stamford removed the parchment from the envelope and began to read aloud.

"_Dear Bartemius, _

_If you are reading this, then the time has come that Xenophilius Lovegood bore a daughter, and she is now of age, and eligible for you. As you are unaware, I cast an Unbreakable Vow between my father, Mr. Casper Crouch, and a man, at this time aged seventeen, by the name of Xenophilius Lovegood. _

_Due to an act of injustice that Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood committed to our family, your Grandfather instructed Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood to hand his first born over to you, my son, Mr. Bartemius Crouch. Jr. _

_I took heed of my father's words carefully. He never stated that you must marry the Lovegood daughter, or do anything with her, should you choose not to. But if you choose to accept this, then you may do with her as you see fit. _

_If Xenophilius Lovegood does not hand her over when you require, he will face death as only the Unbreakable Vow can commit. _

_Yours Sincerely,  
Your father,  
Bartemius Crouch Senior"_

"I don't understand," Barty said, several moments after Stamford had finished reading the letter aloud. "He never mentioned this to me – surely he would mention something as big as…as…forcing a person to hand his daughter to me."

"I can only assume that your father was waiting for her to come of age. Of course, you killed your father long before she came of age, so he would never have gotten the chance to tell you this information."

"I don't really know what to do with this information."

"My advice would be to do with it as you will. Your father cast an Unbreakable Vow – so please try to consider your actions before you make any decisions. At the Ministry, we cannot prevent you from pursuing the girl your father has essentially betrothed you to, as there is no law against it. But if you are not interested in her, I must ask you not to go looking for her, Barty, because if you aren't seriously interested, then you may risk her father dying unnecessarily."

"Who is she?"

There was another silent flick of Stamford's wand, and a file whizzed out of a cabinet on the far wall. He caught it with his wandless hand, and flipped through it. "Ah, here we are." He pulled a particular piece of parchment out of it, and slid it across the desk to Barty. He lifted the parchment in front of his face, studying it.

There was a black-and-white picture of a wide-eyed, heart-faced Caucasian girl in front of him. She was smiling strangely; there was an aura of strangeness about her, something he could sense even from just looking at her picture. This was a school photo, he could tell because she was wearing Hogwarts robes, and there was the emblem of the Ravenclaw crest on her left breast. He gritted his teeth silently – his father and mother were both in Ravenclaw, while he had been destined to be housed in Slytherin.

She had long, waist length blonde hair, which was tangled and thick. There was a string of what looked like Butterbeer corks around her neck, and radishes hanging from her ears. He couldn't believe that his father and Grandfather had just expected him to _take _this strange, crazy looking girl – and for purposes he didn't even understand.

But the note of his father said he could do as he wished with her. He wasn't necessarily interested in taking the odd girl for himself, but it was possible that she could be of use to him. After all, it was going to be a long and lonely life, now that he was out of Azkaban, with no prospects.

He stood up from his chair, taking with him the black box which held his father's possessions and house deed, and put the letter carefully in his robes. As he left the Ministry, accompanied of course by an Auror, he began to formulate a plan in his genius, but twisted mind.

oOo


	4. Meeting Him

**A.N/EDIT: **I was recently told by a friend and reviewer that if someone makes an Unbreakable Vow they cannot speak about it because they will die. I'm not sure entirely if that's right or not, because I remember Snape telling Draco that he made the Unbreakable Vow during the Half-Blood Prince...also I've scoured the internet and can find no source. But if that is right and I am wrong - please don't call me out on it, because Luna knowing about the Unbreakable Vow is all crucial to the story. Thanks :)

* * *

oOo

When Xenophilius finished telling the tale to his daughter, there were tears swimming in his bright, blue eyes. Luna, however, remained dry-eyed – despite just being told that she was to be given, like an object, to a man she had never even met, and knew him only as being one of the most notorious Death Eaters that graced the earth. She was shocked, of course she was shocked, but she didn't feel like there was anything to say.

Well, that wasn't necessarily true. She had a hundred questions – the main one being how the _hell _could her father have gone through with such a vow? But deep down, she knew the answers herself. He had been a child, the age she was now, and he didn't know what was to be expected of him. As he had described, he didn't even know what the Crouch man wanted him to do at first, before he had hoodwinked him into becoming part of the Unbreakable Vow. She could forgive her father easily, he really was sorry.

"I really thought…Luna…that he was gone forever," he was saying, as Luna had begun to silently move around the house, gathering things up. "I never told you because I didn't want you to worry about it while you were just a child…and I heard that he'd received the Dementors Kiss, I just assumed…"

"Daddy, you know as well as I do that the _Daily Prophet _tends to make things up," she shot her father a glowing smile, which was unusual in regards to the present situation. "That's why you started running _The Quibbler_, isn't that right?"

Xenophilius was shaking as he watched Luna piling items into a rucksack, which she was currently performing an Undetectable Extension Charm upon. "Y-yes…Luna, what are you doing?"

"Packing, of course," she said softly, and retreated upstairs to her bedroom. Xenophilius followed her, and found her summoning things into her rucksack, random items soaring across the room and into her bag.

"Why?"

"Daddy, for a Ravenclaw, you are acting quite dim." Xenophilius looked taken aback, but allowed Luna to continue. "You can't be killed by the Unbreakable Vow, because you have only promised to hand me over to him. If I'm not here to be handed over, then you won't have broken the Vow. I will have just gone, and that's not your fault," Luna zipped up her rucksack, and looked up at her father. "I wish it didn't have to be this way though, Daddy. I'm not ready to leave home."

Xenophilius let out a cry of mirth, and wrapped his arms around his daughter suddenly. "I'm so sorry, my darling," he kissed the top of her blonde head repeatedly. "I wish, I wish I had never, never made such a ridiculous mistake that is making you pay. I would die for you, Luna – but it would make no difference if I were to. If I broke the Vow and died, he could still come after you."

"I know, Daddy. I won't be far away, though."

"Where will you go?"

Luna looked up at her father as she shrugged her rucksack onto her back. "I'm not going to tell you. I don't want to risk him coming here and asking you, and you don't tell him – that could be part of the Vow, and I don't want you to die. But I won't be far."

After several moments of Xenophilius bursting into sporadic tears, showers of kisses and wobbly goodbyes, Luna finally left her childhood home. He watched her from the door as she started to walk, and eventually disappeared over a hill.

She didn't know where she planned to go, but for now she was going to head over to the Weasley's, who didn't live far away. She knew that Ron would be there, probably with his girlfriend, Hermione. They would know what to do – for now she was safe from the hands of the man her father called Bartemius Crouch Junior.

Or so she thought.

oOo

Unfortunately, she had been too late. Barty Crouch had apparated to the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, and was looking actively for the house he had been told was shaped like a rock. It hadn't taken long, and he had appeared on the site just long enough to see the older Lovegood man, aged in his fifties, kissing goodbye the blonde girl from the picture. The picture that Barty had torn from the parchment that Stamford Jorkins had given him.

He waited until Xenophilius Lovegood had disappeared back inside his house, and then shadowed Luna on her travels. He had originally planned to go straight up to the house and demand to take the girl, but they obviously had some brains within their family. They had taken the option of Luna leaving the protection of her father, in order to protect him.

Barty snarled to himself as he followed Luna across the hills. He hated cowardice more than anything, and Xenophilius Lovegood seemed to have acted very much like a coward.

oOo

The Weasley's had been blissfully kind to Luna when she arrived. Mrs Weasley didn't ask too many questions, thankfully, and settled for making her some sandwiches and allowing her to get comfortable in the living room. Ginny came rushing down the stairs as soon as she heard of Luna's arrival, and hugged her best friend tightly. It had been several months since they had graduated from Hogwarts, and despite living in the same village, they hadn't made the time to visit each other.

They chatted animatedly for a while, in which Ginny flourished her left hand and fanned her fingers out, displaying a beautiful diamond ring on a silver band. "Harry and I are engaged!" she declared excitedly, and the two girls talked about that. Luna was glad to have something else on her mind, and listened to Ginny going on about dresses and bridesmaids and doilies – all wedding-related things that Luna wasn't necessarily interested in, but she was delighted all the same. They were only interrupted by Mrs Weasley bringing a plate of sandwiches to the coffee table and settling down, and then she sat opposite Ginny and Luna, inviting herself into the conversation.

"Hey, Mum, do you know where Hermione's—hey Luna, what are you doing here?" a voice called from the stairs. Luna looked up to see Ron halfway down the stairs, pulling a red woollen jumper over his head. Hermione was behind him, and she nudged Ron roughly at his impoliteness.

"Really Ronald, you can't just ask people 'what are you doing here'! You're so rude sometimes," she criticized him, but there was an air of fondness in her voice, and she was smiling slightly. They joined the table, and Harry came down after them. After greeting them all, there was a period of silence.

"So, we're all wondering, Luna…what are you doing here?" Mrs Weasley asked softly, over the sound of Ron chewing into a sandwich. He earned another sharp nudge in the ribs from Hermione.

Luna took a deep breath, and repeated the story that her father had told her. This time, she couldn't hold in her tears – it all felt quite real now that she was no longer in her own home, a place that she had always considered safe. The tears flowed down her cheeks as she stuttered out the story, each word sounding more and more unrealistic than the last. It _was _entirely unrealistic – she still couldn't believe that this was happening to her. The emotional surge came from nowhere. She didn't cry often, but when she did, she cried hard. Her nose was running, her face was reddening and patching, her eyes puffing. Ginny wrapped her arms around her friend, letting her cry on her shoulder, and she looked around at her friends and family.

They all looked as astonished as she did. No one spoke for a while, until Mrs Weasley eventually broke the ice.

"Luna, you can stay with us for as long as you need," she said quietly, rubbing Luna's back. "We have quite a lot of spare rooms going nowadays," she added, sadly.

"You can always come to Grimmauld Place with me, if you like, Luna," Harry began. "I've been living there while I try to establish my place within the Ministry. Its loads different now, Hermione even managed to find a spell that could remove the portrait of Mrs Bl—"

"—Not now, mate," Ron muttered, cutting him off.

"Thank you," Luna sniffled over sobs, nodding to both Harry and Mrs Weasley. "Thank you both. Could I just stay here for a little while, if possible?"

"Of course," Mrs Weasley replied, and she stood up. "I'll put you up in Percy's old room," and with that, she vanished from the living room, letting the younger generation all talk between themselves.

They immediately started chatting about Ginny and Harry's wedding plans again, concluding that Luna didn't want to discuss the matter of Barty Crouch Jr. further.

oOo

When night began to fall, Luna was extremely tired. Since allowing herself to fall prey to her emotions, she had needed to rush off to cry in private multiple times. She was extremely glad to see the sun setting, and when she heard the _pop! _of Mr Weasley apparating into the back garden, she vanished upstairs and into Percy's old bedroom. She liked Mr Weasley well enough, but she didn't want to have to repeat the story again. At the moment, it was just too traumatizing. A series of low voices started downstairs soon after his arrival, and Luna knew Mrs Weasley would be explaining the situation to her husband.

She sat down gingerly on the bed, which Mrs Weasley had kindly changed and made up. It looked like she had attempted to change the colour and pattern of Percy's previously bleak bedcovers, because they were a patchy peach colour. Luna wasn't particularly fond of the colour, but she appreciated Mrs Weasley's gesture all the same. She reached into her rucksack and started rummaging in its magically extended depth, until she retrieved some pajamas she had packed. She blew out the candle that was on her bedside table, and started undressing in the dark. When she was comfortable in her nightclothes, she scrambled under the covers and pulled the sheets up to her neck.

Luna was scared. Though she didn't show it, and generally emotion didn't pass by her at all – she really was terrified. All of this had happened so quickly; so suddenly – she didn't have time to process it at all. It was almost like the whole day had flown by in a haze, it was like a dream. She wished it was a dream. Slowly, she began to drift off into sleep, her mind plagued with visions of a younger version of her father, a man with manic eyes and straw-like hair from a picture she once saw, and the swirling sight of nargles, hundreds and hundreds of nargles, floating in and out of her brain.

Then the next thing she knew, she was becoming aware of someone watching her. She felt an ache in her head as she tried to prise her eyes open slowly, adjusting to the sensation of waking up.

Shock suddenly radiated through her body to her very core, and before she could scream, a hand clapped over her mouth roughly. She stared ahead of her, right into the maniacal brown eyes of the man she knew to be Barty Crouch Jr.


	5. The Crouch Manor

oOo

Luna woke up, screaming her head off and grabbing at her face. There was no one there. It had just been a dream – a terrifying dream – probably brought on by her fears and anxieties of this strange man. She sat up in her bed, her pajamas sticking to her body, sheen of sweat across her skin, and panting for breath. It had been so realistic. "What…on earth…"

"Were you having a nightmare?" a voice spoke from the corner of her room, suddenly. Luna reached onto the bedside table quickly, grabbing at her wand – but it wasn't there.

The brown-eyed, straw-haired man stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the bedroom. He was wearing muggle clothes – denim jeans and a faded t-shirt, and a brown coat that reached to his knees, which belted with a huge buckle at his waist. He was twiddling a wand between his fingers – Luna's wand.

"That's mine," she said, slowly and carefully beginning to step out of bed. Cool air hit her in the back of the neck, the window was wide open, clearly his access point to her.

"You won't need it yet," he replied softly, and tucked it away into his pocket. He had another wand in his other hand, most likely his own, and he was pointing it at Luna casually.

"I know you…Mr Crouch…" Luna held out her hands slowly, keeping her eyes on him. She was scared – her heart was beating hard and fast in her ears – but she couldn't show him she was scared. She needed to have the upper hand here. "We should talk about this…arrangement…that our fathers had."

Barty kept his eyes on Luna as he raised his wand to the door, and whispered; "_Muffliato._"

"I don't know why they…well; I do know why they made the Unbreakable Vow, because my father told me. But we shouldn't have to pay for his mistake – I'm not going to talk about the event that happened in 1962, Mr Crouch – but it's nothing to do with me."

"The problem is, it has everything to do with you," Barty's eyes were unblinking and staring her down, with an unspoken menace. "As your father has willingly agreed to hand you over to me, by the Unbreakable Vow."

Luna gritted her teeth. She wasn't an object – how dare he speak to her like she was one. "Well, I'm not my father's to give away. I am seventeen, and I've left home – so he can't _hand me over_."

A smirk flitted across Barty's face. "Well, I thought we would come to this dilemma. I know you were a Ravenclaw student at Hogwarts, so you are bound to have remarkable mental talent," he dropped the hand that held his wand, but his smirk only grew wider. "In that case, I will just have to go over the hill to your father and kill him, as that would have happened should he have ignored the Unbreakable Vow."

Luna folded her arms across her chest. "No you won't. You have only just been released from Azkaban, and I highly doubt the Ministry are letting you just wander free without being monitored – if you go and murder someone in cold blood a day after being free, then you are earning yourself a ticket straight back into there."

Barty started to laugh – a cruel, guffawing laugh. He sounded completely insane – Luna swallowed and stepped back until she was against the open window. While he was too busy clutching his stomach and laughing, she turned around to look out. It wasn't too far – she could probably jump into the bushes and avoid injury. But how long could she run for, before he caught up? He had two wands now, after all – and Luna hadn't always been that fast at running. She looked back up at the man, biting her lip, and trying to strategize a plan to get away from him.

"Do you think they will catch me? I thought you were supposed to be clever, Luna!" Barty was almost crying. She was glad that he had cast the _Muffliato _spell in the room, as she didn't want Mr and Mrs Weasley to dive in the room, right now. This was the man who had tortured Neville's parents, and helped bring Voldemort back to full power – he was capable of things she'd never even dreamed of. She didn't want the deaths of Mr and Mrs Weasley on her conscience or anyone else in this house, for that matter. This was why she had to try and get out of here right now, and get this maniac away from them all.

He calmed down considerably, wiping at his eyes will the sleeve of his coat. Luna didn't really know what had been so funny, but she didn't stop to ask. She was almost sat on the window ledge now, ready to swing her legs out and plummet into the bushes. He stopped laughing immediately, and looked straight up at Luna again, his wand pointing directly at her chest. "So, are you going to come along with me willingly, or am I going to have to pay Mr Lovegood a visit?"

The death of her father suddenly flashed before her eyes. She knew Xenophilius was a brilliant wizard, but it was unlikely that he had the talent to match Barty, despite being seventeen years older than him. Barty had probably been given training by Voldemort himself – her poor father wouldn't be able to fight that kind of magic. She felt her lip wobbling again, and knew that this was the only way to ensure the safety of her father. But as she stepped towards Barty's greedy, outstretched hands, she vowed to herself that she would take the first chance she got to get away from him.

He was holding his calloused, unexpectedly clean hands out to her, and with a swallow, Luna picked up her rucksack and slung it over her shoulder, and then tenderly placed her hands in his. The last thing she saw before she was sucked into side-along apparition was the winning smirk that crossed his face, and his gleaming brown eyes, shining in the dark.

oOo

When Luna woke up, she was sure it had all been a dream. She could feel light streaming onto her face, because her vision behind her eyelids was a bright, pinky-red colour. She screwed them closed momentarily, stifling a yawn, and then opened her eyes slowly, squinting in the bright light.

The first thing she noticed was the window. The room that she was in had a huge window that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and it was across two walls, making the room appear quite greenhouse-like. The room didn't seem to have been used before, as the walls were plain and cream, and the floor was wooden, and there was the smell of fresh paint in her nostrils. Luna sat up, rubbing her eyes with her fists, and looked around her.

She was in a four-poster bed, with blue quilted blankets. All the memories of the night before flooded her memory, and she sighed. It hadn't been a dream – she really was here, in the house that Barty had brought her to.

So what on earth was she supposed to do now?

Write to her father would be a good idea. She didn't want him to worry…it was probably best if she lied to him. She found her rucksack at the foot of the bed, and reached inside it. It was so full of random items that it took her a while to find the parchment and ink that she knew was in there somewhere – and after a further scan around the room, she discovered that Barty had still not returned her wand, so she wouldn't be able to summon her writing equipment by magic. Finally, she managed to find what she needed, and set to writing a short letter to her father.

_Dear Daddy, _

_Please don't worry about me. I'm safe now, and I don't think the Crouch man will come after me. I'll come home very soon. I love you._

_Luna_

She folded the letter up until it was very small, and shoved it back into the depth of her rucksack. She couldn't send it yet, having no means of posting it, but she made a mental note to make it her first priority as soon as she spotted an owl.

oOo

Barty still wasn't entirely sure what he planned to do with Luna. All he knew was that she _could _be of some use to him when his six month security period was over, and he was able to do as he pleased. His plans for then, as of yet…were undisclosed.

He was still angry with the world. Even though he got his revenge on his neglectful father long ago, he was still angry with him. Years of his life were wasted, being hidden under the invisibility cloak, and trapped in the bleak-minded confines of the Imperius Curse. He couldn't talk to anyone – anyone apart from the house-elf, Winky. It was no wonder that he was slightly mad. Even though he was free of Azkaban, his twisted mind couldn't help but whisk up plans that would probably get him sent straight back there, if the Ministry could read his mind…but he couldn't help it. He wasn't ready to forgive the world. His statement in the _Daily Prophet _had been a complete and utter lie – of course it had. He didn't care if the public _forgave _him. But he did need them to accept that he was out of Azkaban, even if they didn't like him. He needed the people to think he was as reformed and different as he said he was.

He was sat on the couch in his living room, wringing his hands together. It was going to be a long six months, a _very _long six months. It was eight in the morning right now, and it was only the second day of his freedom. He looked around the room slowly, taking in the view. His house really was a lot different from what he remembered. When he had arrived here last night with Luna, it has been the first time since before he went to the Quidditch World Cup. Back then it was dark, and not very clean – Winky did her best, but she was always too busy looking after Barty. His father didn't care about the state of the house, as he was always at the Ministry – that was his true home.

But workers from the Ministry had come to the Crouch Manor and fixed it all up, most likely after Barty Crouch Sr. had been killed. It was airy and light – there were more windows than Barty remembered. Every room in the manor was repainted, and every heirloom and belonging was polished and replaced. When he had wandered into his father's bedroom for a look, he did notice that the Ministry worker must have been particularly fond of Barty Crouch Sr, as every single one of his belongings was gleaming and glittering much more than any other item in the house. Barty had shut the door on that room, and vowed never to go in there again.

He had put Luna in his mother's old room. It was the least used of all rooms, and was at the top of the house – so he could keep her as far away from him, if he wished. He had stunned Luna as they apparated into the village of his old home, as he didn't want her to see where they would be living, as he wouldn't put it past her to contact her beloved father or friends.

It was strange, being here in this house. But he supposed he would have to get used to it – for these six months, at least.

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the main door, and he jumped out of his seat, and strode into the hallway. Upon opening the door, he discovered a tall Ministry worker, with thick brown hair streaked with grey, dressed in sharply pressed black robes, wearing a starch white shirt underneath. He stuck out a hand to greet Barty, who simply stared from his outstretched hand, to his ferret-like face, disdainfully. The man drew back his hand slowly, and licked his lips before speaking. "My name is John Dawlish, previously of the Auror office for the Ministry of Magic. I have been assigned as your Watchwizard for the remainder of the next six months. May I come in, so I can discuss some things with you?"

"No," Barty replied blandly.

"Very well," Dawlish removed from his robes a roll of parchment. Barty rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly – he was getting seriously fed up of Ministry officials pulling out random leaves of parchment and reeling off rules to him. Surely he had been told _all _the rules, now. He found his mind tailing off as Dawlish started speaking - repeating all the rules that he had already been told by Stamford Jorkins the day before - and finally, after what seemed like several dire hours, he noticed Dawlish rolling up the parchment, and handing it out to Barty. He took it from his hand, and stuffed it into his pocket. "I know you will know the rules regarding your six month security period already, Mr Crouch, but I'm sure you will understand why I need to repeat them to you, don't you."

"Of course," Barty replied in a bored tone. He was getting ready to shut the door in Dawlish's face, but the ex-Auror had his foot lodged firmly in the entrance.

"Now, am I to understand that you have a job to be going to from the start of next week?"

"What? No, I haven't got one yet."

"Ah," Dawlish started rooting in the pockets of his robes again. "Stamford said he had sent an owl, but he must have forgotten," he revealed yet another piece of parchment, causing Barty to groan – outwardly, this time – and rub his forehead in disgust. "Now, now, nothing to worry about," he consoled, noticing Barty's reaction. His eyes began to flicker across the letter. "Stamford Jorkins has noticed that you may find it difficult to seize a job, in regards to your position in the community, so he is offering you a position as his understudy in the Administrative Registration Department – do you accept this? You will be paid a sum of one galleon and twelve sickles per hour and you will work seven hours a day. You will arrive at the Ministry by Floo Network no later than nine in the morning, and you will depart at four in the afternoon, but sometimes you will be asked to work overtime. In which case, every hour of overtime will earn you an extra two galleons."

Barty could think of nothing worse than having to go to work – especially having to go to work with the short, balding Ministry worker that was Stamford Jorkin - _especially _having to work alongside him, in his claustrophobic, untidy office. Barty had never worked a day in his life, unless you counted his year of disguising himself as a Professor at Hogwarts. He went straight from his school life at Hogwarts to become a Death Eater; straight from being a Death Eater to a sentence in Azkaban; straight from Azkaban back to another lifetime of living under his father's Imperius curse. But Stamford was right – Barty did have little chance of gaining a job on his own due to his background, and if he didn't get one as soon as possible, he would be at risk of the 'further action', the Ministry had warned him of. "Yes, yes. I accept."

"Thank you, Mr Crouch. I suppose I will be seeing you soon," Dawlish folded up the parchment, then turned and vanished on the spot. Barty shut the door sharply, locked it, and then turned to face the bottom of the stairs.

"Luna!" he shouted into the rafters. "Come down here!"

There was the sound of feet hitting the floor, and after a few moments, the blonde-haired teenager he had successfully kidnapped the night before was walking down the stairs before him. She had changed from her pajamas, and was wearing jeans and a periwinkle blue jumper. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she looked up at him silently, with her boggling, great grey eyes. Even though she looked so blank and dim just standing there in front of him, he couldn't mistake the hatred she felt for him, that was deep within her glittering eyes. "Yes?"

"Yes, what?" Barty snapped. For some reason, seeing her standing there in front of him so sullenly – he was suddenly overcome with irritation. He wanted to see her quivering and fearful of him – not standing there with her fists clenched at her sides, apparently not scared of him at all. He had _kidnapped _her, for heaven's sake. She didn't know if she was going to live or die – nor did she know if her _father _was going to live or die! How could she stand there, so brave? She was just a child.

"Yes, _Barty_?" she corrected, through gritted teeth.

"Go make dinner."

"I'm going to need my wand," she responded nonchalantly.

Barty leaned forward, so his face was close to hers, staring right back into her gaping eyes. "No, you're going to do it manually," he bumped foreheads with her. "Like a muggle. Go." He leaned back, and she stared hatefully back at him for a few minutes, and then stalked off into the kitchen, not looking behind her.

oOo


	6. First Strike

**A.N: **The rating is going up from this chapter to an M – there is a violent theme in this chapter, and will probably continue for a few more chapters – so if you're uncomfortable with reading violence/sexual themes, then please don't continue!

* * *

oOo

It had been only two days since Luna had been brought to Barty's house against her will – but the two days felt like a lifetime. To put things bluntly, she was terribly bored.

All she had done was cook and clean – her hands were beginning to go numb. She was used to cooking and cleaning at home, of course, as her and her father didn't believe in having house elves, and they were both supporters of Hermione Granger's _SPEW _motion. But, despite being so used to household chores, she wasn't used to doing them all manually. She would almost always use a charm or a spell of some sort to make food cook itself, or a feather duster sweep along surfaces of its own free will. She was _not _used to this, and she was beginning to feel like Barty was making her clean things for his own entertainment. She could tell, just by looking at him, that he too was just as bored as she was.

He had been trying to scare her since she had been here, and even though it had been working, she had never failed to keep her expression as motionless and fear-free as possible. She was sure that it would only be a matter of time before he used an unforgivable curse on her, and she had started to wonder why it hadn't happened already, when she overheard the Ministry worker at the door.

Luna was looking from her huge bedroom window, as Barty had locked her in there, when she spotted the man walking up to the front door. She had seen him come twice before already, and figured that Barty was having check-ups from the Ministry. However, the third time he arrived, her curiosity got the better of her. She lunged for her rucksack, and reached into its depth, until she felt the rubbery material of the Extendable Ear that she had been in possession of since her fifth year of Hogwarts. She was on the fourth floor of the Manor, so just opening the window wouldn't allow her to hear the conversation.

Quietly, she slid the top window open a little, and passed one end of the Extendable Ear through the gap, holding the other to her own ear. The long strand of the Extendable Ear slipped down a few feet, but still a fair bit higher than the front door, but she could now hear everything perfectly, as if Barty and the Ministry man were having the conversation right next to her.

She learnt a few things, just by eavesdropping on them. She discovered that her theory was true, and the Ministry were keeping a close eye on Barty. That lifted her spirits a little, because her brain instantly started to work out ways that she could make her presence known to the Ministry, and whether they would have the power to remove her from Barty's clutches. She didn't hold much hope on that – the Ministry were behind on a lot of laws that should really be perfect common sense – like kidnapping a person. And it was likely that Barty could get away with this, as technically, Luna had come along with him willingly.

Luna allowed herself to push these thoughts away for now, and continued to listen in to the conversation being held several floors below her. She learnt that Barty was absolutely _not _to perform an unforgivable curse – and if he so much began to utter the words of them, there would be Auror's around his house instantly. She felt a knot untangling in her stomach with relief – she was sure that anyone who had been released from Azkaban wouldn't deliberately risk being sent back there – but then again, she didn't know Barty that well. He seemed so…

…Crazy.

When she heard the Ministry Official leaving, she pulled the Extendable Ear back inside quickly, and stuffed it into her rucksack. It was just on time, as Barty flung the door open almost the moment she'd closed her bag. She didn't even need to ask what he wanted – it was the same thing every evening.

"Go make dinner," he ordered, and waited for her challenging question, that she had started to ask every single time.

"Can I have my wand?" she asked quietly, looking him back in the eye. She felt a lot less afraid of him now that she knew that his wand was being tracked, so she didn't even need to pretend that she wasn't scared anymore.

"No. You can do it like—"

"—like a muggle, I know." Luna replied with a sigh, and walked past Barty, heading downstairs into the kitchen to start making dinner.

She was becoming more aware of Barty's personality. He was an extremely disordered and malfunctioned person, she could tell even from when she wasn't in the room with him. Sometimes, he seemed nicer – he wouldn't speak to her as harshly, and while he still ordered her to clean and make his dinner, he didn't do it with the breezy and cruel tone he usually adopted. But his mood swings varied daily – sometimes even hourly – and it was an extremely scary prospect. On a night, she could sometimes hear him shouting and shrieking at things that she were sure weren't there. He would turn tables over and smash plates and then recede to his bedroom in a strange, eerie silence. She never knew what kind of a mood he was going to be in, but she had already learnt to always expect the worst.

Today just happened to be a bad day for Barty – she could tell as soon as she started walking into the kitchen. His gaze was burning into her back – he was determined to wind her up this afternoon, she could just tell. She figured he was angry about the Ministry visit, so she vowed to herself that she would do her best not to antagonize him – at least not deliberately.

He stalked after her as she walked into the gleaming kitchen (it was gleaming because she had spent hours scrubbing it the day before). She noticed a freshly stacked pile of plates in front of the cupboard, which she figured were the plates he had smashed earlier that day, now newly repaired with a spell. Trying to ignore her captor, who was standing behind her, she started to work on chopping the carrots that were on the counter.

"I need to talk to you," Barty said suddenly, after several minutes of Luna chopping in silence. She remained silent, to allow him to speak, but she was surprised. In the few days she had been here, he'd barely spoken to her – other than to tell her to clean or make dinner. She continued to chop the carrots; the only noise in the kitchen was the dull _thud_ of the knife against the board. "Can you stop doing that, for a minute?"

Luna continued to chop, trying to make the noises a little quieter.

"Stop it!" he hissed suddenly, lunging forward and grabbing her knife arm. She turned around, shocked at him seizing her, and accidentally swiped him across the cheek with the knife. He stood stock still, motionless, and blood started to drip down his face.

Luna backed up until her back hit the counter, while Barty stared down at the knife. She immediately dropped on the floor, where it landed with a deafening clatter. Fear spread across Luna's body from a point in her stomach, and she stared up at the older man, her eyes wobbling with terror. It was the first time she was showing her fear in front of him, but no matter how much she tried to swallow it back down, it was impossible to dig out her emotionless mask. Her lip shook and she gripped the counter with both hands, trying to keep her gaze on the man in front of her.

"I didn't mean to…I'm sorr—"

He slapped her round the face suddenly with the back of his hand, causing her to fall to the side. She landed on the floor at his feet and clutched at her cheek where his hand had made contact with her face, and blinked at his shoes. Tears started to spill over her eyelids, and she sat there in silence, allowing the tears to fall to the floor. She was shocked – she had figured that he would do something to hurt her eventually, but she still couldn't hold in her surprise. She watched as his boots retreated to the kitchen door, and he spoke.

"I have to start work tomorrow," he started, his voice sounding unnatural. "I'll be away from nine until four. I expect that you know you should stay here. I will lock the door and take your wand with me, and if you're not here when I come back, I will be heading straight for your father."

"You won't kill him," Luna whispered, keeping her eyes on his leather boots.

"What did you say?" He answered, in a voice just as quiet.

"You won't kill him." She looked up at him suddenly; anger was filling the gap where the fear had been. "I heard what your Ministry worker said. He said that you can't perform an unforgivable curse because they're tracking your wand."

Barty was still for a moment, while he considered what she had said. Then he reached down and grabbed her by the arms, hoisting her up to her feet. She made a noise of discomfort, and he pulled her towards him, so that she was right in front of his face. "There is more than one way to kill a man, Luna," he hissed. "It doesn't necessarily require a wand." He pressed his forehead against hers, and stared right into her eyes. She stared back for as long as she could, but there were still tears streaming down her face. He dropped her, and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. Luna allowed herself to fall to the ground, and backed up against the counter, wrapping her arms around herself. She needed to find a way out of here – and quickly, while he was still being given extra attention by the Ministry. She tried to push the fear and shock of being hit out of her mind, and started to formulate a plan.

oOo

Barty slammed his bedroom door shut and leaned against it, panting. He walked across to his bed, stripping his clothes off as he did so, and laid down on his bed, burying his face into his pillow. He hadn't meant to hit her. He was just so angry – the blood, the anger…the blood, the anger…she was just standing there, and it was the first time he'd seen her looking so…afraid.

Wasn't that what he wanted? To feel her fear, and see her face change? He had wanted to see the emotionless, blank look be wiped off her face – he wanted to make her _feel_. But now he had achieved that, and he didn't know how he felt about the situation.

His head was in turmoil. As he struggled with the battle of why he had struck her, and whether it had been necessary, the memories started to flood back.

Images, images in the viewpoint from under an invisibility cloak. His father never coming home, being looked after by a house-elf, the feeling of his brain being fogged over, his father's instructions and orders filling his thoughts. Then, the few times he had broken free of the Imperius curse, his father striking him across the face for misbehaving, just as he had just struck Luna.

Barty could no longer remain grounded. He was sucked into the flashback as if he was really there. As he laid on his bed, clutching his hair and screaming into his pillow, Luna listened from the kitchen. She stared up at the ceiling above her, where she knew Barty's bedroom was, and listened to the haunting shrieks and screams that echoed from the rafters.

He was messed up, and it only made her want to escape more.

oOo


	7. Behaving Like a Muggle

**A.N: **As much as I'm enjoying writing this, I might be taking a break from it for a while because my confidence is lacking. I've had a few story alerts on this so I know people are reading (at least, I hope!) but I've not had any reviews on a chapter after Chapter 2 :( So I think I might give it a while before I keep writing, I'm a little bit worried about whether it's good enough to go anywhere.

* * *

oOo

It was the first day of Barty's new working career, and he was in a terrible mood. He wasn't used to waking up before nine 'o' clock, and he definitely wasn't used to the starched, stiff robes that he had been provided with by John Dawlish. The collar of his shirt felt like it had been preserved by cardboard for the last three years, and no matter how many times he fiddled with the white fabric, it didn't loosen or relax at all. He had arrived, as promised, by Floo powder, and was currently stood in the middle of the great Ministry hall, as great numbers of other Ministry workers flooded in through the empty fireplaces and started heading towards the lifts.

He followed them towards the lifts, and stood waiting. Barty was a very impatient person – impatience that had grown greatly since his mentality seemed to take a drastic turn for the worse – but he swallowed the angry comment he wanted to make about the time it was taking for people to get into lifts and get to their positions. Eventually, he got a place in the lift, and the golden grilles snapped shut in his face.

Barty had not traveled within the Ministry himself, but he was sure he remembered the way. And sure enough, within five minutes, he was streaming down the corridor towards the door labelled _Administrative Registration Department_. He walked straight into Stamford Jorkin's office without knocking, and noticed that a few things had changed since his last visit.

The room had been extended by at least two metres, lengthways. On the opposite end of the office which had previously not existed, there was a small wooden desk and a chair against the wall, with a little painting of a sailboat hung for decoration. The painting was even worse than the one Stamford already had up, but Barty was in no position to complain about the décor. He assumed that the minor desk was his, and sat down, awaiting Stamford's entrance. He was early – by nearly ten minutes.

At that moment Stamford burst through the door, looking slightly sweaty and panting heavily. "Ah, Crouch. I saw you heading for the lifts but I couldn't catch up with you. I see you've made yourself acquainted with your desk?"

Barty didn't reply. He was sat at the desk, so he figured this was obvious enough.

"Yes, well. There's no need for explanations, Administration work is easy enough," Stamford was taking his overcoat off as he spoke. He retrieved his wand from a pocket and flicked wordlessly at a large cupboard in the corner of the room. A huge brown box emerged, floated across the room, and landed with a dusty "_pouff!_"in front of Barty. He looked from the box to Stamford, questioningly. "That is all the marriage records for wizard-kind for the last two centuries. They have needed filing accordingly for a very long time, but you know – busy, busy, busy. So I've made it your first task. I'd like you to go through that box and organize it for me. Organize in date order, oldest to newest, in separate piles - pure-blood marriages, and witch or wizard marriages to muggles, if you please, Barty."

Barty licked his lips slowly, swallowing the irritation that was bubbling up inside him. Quietly, with his hands shaking, he spoke; "I thought the Ministry weren't making a point of separating blood types, since the Dark L—I mean, You-Know-Who was killed."

"Oh it's nothing cynical, Crouch!" Stamford gave a half-hearted laugh. "No, well, I don't know the actual reason, as it's come from a higher source, but I am quite sure it's all to do with good, organised filing."

"Is this the only box?" Barty said, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

"Oh, heaven's no," Stamford flourished his wand at the cupboard again, and three more boxes soared out, stacking up neatly beside Barty's desk. He had to practically hold his breath in to avoid shouting an obscenity at his new boss. "Oh, and if you don't mind, Barty," Stamford added. "Could you try to do the work manually, for the first box at least, just to make sure it's all perfect."

"You want me to do it like a mu—"

"—Like a muggle, yes."

Barty opened his mouth to speak, but remembered the similar conversation that had happened between him and Luna. He instead pulled the lid of the foist-smelling brown box, and set to work, silently.

oOo

Back at the manor, Luna had just opened her eyes. She dressed silently, and, after remembering that Barty had said he would be working on Monday, she walked over to the door to see if he had left it open.

Slowly, she pulled the doorknob, hoping that she wasn't going to be confined to the bedroom – she didn't think she could stand the stress if he had – but no, thankfully the door swung open, and she tip-toed downstairs.

She was still in shock at what had happened a day previously. For the whole of Sunday, she remained upstairs in her room – not that she had any say in the matter, as he had locked the door firmly. But she hadn't cared, she was thankful to be away from him, and it was giving her more time to think of a way out of this hell.

When she walked into the kitchen – avoiding looking at the counter, where he had hit her. The carrots she had been chopping that night were still there, wilted and soggy. He hadn't bothered to move them, even though it would have taken mere minutes by magic. She noticed there was a torn piece of parchment on the kitchen table, and she picked it up, noticing there was hastily scribbled, scrawling handwriting written on it in pencil.

_Luna_

_Today is my first day of work. _

_There is food in the cupboards. You are to clean and prepare dinner for 4pm. _

_The door is locked. If anybody knocks, __do not__ make your presence known. _

He didn't sign off the note, but she didn't need a signature to know who had left it for her. She screwed it up in her fist, swallowing her anger. She wasn't going to clean the kitchen – no way in hell. She was going to have a look around her house for an owl to send the new letter she had written.

The day before, when she was confined to the bedroom, Luna had considered re-writing the letter to her father, but she knew it would endanger him too much. She couldn't risk him knowing where she was, much less trying to find her and rescue her. Also, Xenophilius Lovegood was too much of an obvious choice. If she escaped and ran straight home to her father, that would be the first place he would check. Instead, she had added to the letter she already previously wrote to her father, telling him to relocate for now, and entrust someone to be his Secret Keeper, so that no one could find where he lived.

The second, much longer letter was for Ginny. Luna had gotten quite emotional whilst writing to her best friend, and had ended up detailing everything that had happened to her – as well as apologizing for her sudden disappearance from The Burrow, as she knew the whole family would be panicking, and probably looking for her. She told Ginny in the letter that she was working on a way out, but as Barty had stunned her when they first came to the manor, she had no idea where she was until she could get out of the house.

She only hoped that Ginny wouldn't worry too much. She had explained what happened when Barty had hit her in the face in the kitchen, but she assured her friend she was perfectly fine now – and strangely, when she had woken up on Sunday morning, the bruise and ache from her cheekbone had vanished – so she could only assume that Barty had snuck into her room in the dead of the night and repaired her injuries magically, though she still couldn't understand why he would do that.

Luna began scouring the house. It was going to be a long job, as the house, which stood on four floors, was also rather wide. She knew it was a house previously of the Black family, because in several rooms she found silverware with the Black family crest on it, as well as portraits of men and women with the distinct dark haired and dark eyed features she had recognized in the late Sirius Black. Some rooms she couldn't get into – much to her irritation, as she would convince herself there would be a ready and waiting owl sitting behind the door. Eventually, she came to a room at the back of the third floor, and luckily it was unlocked.

She slipped inside and closed the door behind her. She knew, within the moments of her being in here that this was Barty's room. It was used – and recently. The green bedcovers had been thrown back, untidily, and there were things strewn around his bedroom. As she spent most evenings listening to him raging to himself in this very room, she figured the objects and clothing that had been chucked around were the result of an episode.

Her eyes continued to graze around the room, and then she heard a hooting noise. She looked over to the window, and noticed a huge brown tawny owl sitting in a cage that was unfortunately too small for it. It looked overfed, and she realized this as she walked closer – the plastic sections were overflowing with food and water. The owl hooted excitedly as she walked over, and fluttered its wings a little as she fiddled with the lock on the cage. After a few moments, she managed to unlock the cage with a hairpin – a trick that Harry had shown her when they were in Hogwarts, it was something that muggles used. The padlock unlocked, and the cage door swung open. The fat owl hopped out onto the window ledge, looking up at her expectantly.

She pulled the two letters out of her pocket, and fastened them to the owl's leg. "Please come back before four this afternoon," she begged the bird quietly as she opened the window. As if in answer, the bird hooted softly, and soared out of the open window. She watched it until it was just a brown speck in the distance, and prayed that the bird was fast and fit enough for a journey that was potentially quite long.

oOo

Several hours later, and the bird still had not arrived. Luna was feeling nervous as the time ticked closer and closer to four 'o' clock, and she had resorted to completing the tasks that Barty had set her. She'd managed to clean every room she could get to – including Barty's bedroom, of which she had straightened the curtains and smoothed the bedding and picked up every single object and dirty sock off the floor. Now, with her hands shaking, she had managed to prepare a meal of simple pasta Bolognese, and she could only hope that it would be good enough.

Five minutes before four 'o' clock, she had deposited the meal onto two plates and placed the pots into the sink, and then she ran up the stairs to Barty's bedroom. The window was still wide open, the cage open, but the owl had not returned. A lump formed in her throat – this was not going to go down well. Carefully, she closed the window, and then left the room, closing the door behind her. She walked down the stairs at a much slower pace, dreading to think how he would react when he found out she had used his owl.

Just as she was placing Barty's plate on the table where he ate, and her own plate on a tray, which she was usually told to eat in her bedroom, he arrived in a cloud of ashes in the fireplace. He stepped out, leaving footprints of black dust on the floor, shrugging off his overcoat, and muttering something about paperwork and boxes. He seemed to be deep in thought, so Luna attempted to slip out of sight with her dinner, and allow him to discover his missing owl himself.

"Hold it," he said suddenly, and Luna froze in the doorway. She turned around, forcing her face into the expressionless one she had been a master of just two days ago – since he had hit her, she was finding it a lot more difficult. "Where are you going?"

"To my room," she replied quickly.

"No, not tonight," he muttered, as he started pulling the top layer of his robes off, and slinging them onto the sofa. "Sit down." He gestured towards the table. Luna didn't argue, instead depositing her tray onto the counter-top, and placed her plate down on the table, sitting as far away from Barty as was possible.

He sat down in front of his spaghetti, and started devouring it at an animalistic rate. Luna watched him, dumbstruck for a few moments. However, when he looked up and glared at her, she resumed eating silently. There was no noise for the next ten minutes, just the sound of forks clattering and scraping across their plates. Then, unexpectedly, Barty brandished his wand from his pocket, and waved it in a flourishing motion. The plates leapt and hovered in the air, and then floated over to the sink, which had started filling itself. Luna watched, shocked, as the scrubbing brush rose into the air, and started working on all the pots, pans and plates that were now in the sink. She felt like it was the first time she was seeing magic; it was so surprising that he was doing it the proper way, instead of making her do it manually.

He gave another lazy flick towards the cupboards, and two stout, clear glass cups soared out of the cupboard, alongside a large, unopened bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. When these items landed gracefully on the table in front of Barty, the chair directly to the left of him flew out, and he nodded to it, implying Luna was to change seats. She swallowed slightly hesitantly – this behaviour was so abnormal, and she didn't really know what to expect. Why did he want her to sit next to him? Was he expecting her to _drink _with him? She just didn't know, but she didn't want to aggravate him when he seemed to be in a particularly mellow mood. So she behaved herself, and sat next to him politely, trying to make sure her knees didn't bump with his underneath the table, as they were sat so close together.

"Luna, have you ever drunk Firewhiskey before?"

Luna shook her head. She had tried a Chocolate Cauldron that was laced with the stuff before, but she had never willingly drunk the substance from a glass.

"Well, you're in for a treat. I had my first day of work today, so I think its cause for celebration. Also, it's been a shitty, shitty day, filled with shitty, shitty people."

"Do I have to drink?" All Luna wanted to do right now was retire to her bedroom, and hide away from the man who was undoubtedly going to turn into a drunken (and potentially dangerous) wreck for the remainder of the evening, but she didn't need to hear his answer to know what the truth already was.

"Yes," Barty replied sharply. He tapped the bottle top with his wand harshly, still gazing intently at Luna. The cork shot out of the top, and he caught it expertly with his wand-free hand. Slowly, he poured hefty measures of the liquid into the two separate glasses, and with another motion of his wand, one glass slid towards Luna. He smirked – and it was reminiscent of the insane smirk he had given her the night she had come to this house with him – "you are going to have fun with me tonight, Luna," he drained his glass in one go, and began pouring another measurement. "I promise."

oOo


	8. Firewhiskey Haze

**A.N: **I want to start making things a bit more interesting now between Luna and Barty. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

oOo

The Firewhiskey was harsh at first – it burnt Luna's tongue and throat when she took the first, forced mouthful. Barty was wearing a strange smile as he urged her to drink up, and when she swallowed the first cupful, she knew her face was contorting. It wasn't particularly enjoyable; it didn't have the nice, sweet taste she associated with Butterbeer. But after the second glass, she noticed it started to flow down her neck easier, and quicker. The bitter aftertaste soon wore off, and she could almost say she was enjoying the beverage.

Luna was confused. She didn't know what had changed about Barty, and she was still concerned as to why he was acting so differently. She didn't believe that he was feeling bad after his antics the day before yesterday – this was a _Death Eater_, and a notorious one at that. He didn't feel bad about slapping girls, he had probably done worse. Well no, he _had _done worse, and the world knew all about it. Luna was also still pondering the whereabouts of the owl she had found in Barty's bedroom, and secretly cursing herself for being stupid enough to risk sending his owl. He might be refilling her glass now, and reeling a story off in his drawling tones with that sadistic smirk in the corner of his mouth, but when he went up to bed and noticed his owl was gone, there would be trouble.

She wondered briefly if he would get drunk enough to forget he even owned an owl when he went up to bed.

oOo

Luna however, wasn't betting on herself getting drunk. She had never been drunk before, but it was undeniable. After two hours of listening to Barty talk – about things she wasn't even listening properly to – she couldn't help but notice that her head was starting to feel foggy. Her vision was blurring and her blood was pumping in her ears – she was starting to feel slightly…giddy.

"I thought about you today, Luna," Barty said. He had just, unknowingly to Luna, magically refilled the three-quarters empty bottle of Firewhiskey for the third time, and poured her another glass, which she drunk almost immediately. "My new boss…Stamford," he was slurring himself, his hair hanging into his eyes. "He said something that reminded me of a conversation that we had a few times. Do you remember?"

Luna smiled at Barty for the first time. The alcohol wasn't helping her mind at all – she realized she was warming to him. It was definitely the alcohol. The whiskey; the smirk he was giving her. The whiskey; his dark, glimmering brown eyes set on hers. The whiskey; his hand, which had crept underneath the table, and was now resting on her thigh. "A conversation? I don't think we have had a conversation, until now that is." Luna couldn't help but stumble over her words – her brain was _remarkably _unclear at the moment. But it was a pleasant feeling. She felt like at the moment, she didn't have any worries. As far as she was concerned, she wasn't trapped here, Barty hadn't assaulted her the other day, and there was definitely no owl pursuing her mind anymore. All there was for her to think about was this man in front of her, and the satisfying numbness of her mind.

"I suppose it wasn't a conversation then," Barty relayed the conversation between himself and Stamford that day, in which Stamford had told him to organize the boxes of marriage records 'like a muggle' – something he found such a coincidence after he'd told Luna to clean and cook like a muggle since she'd been here. Even though Luna normally wouldn't find that funny at all – in fact, she would be very indifferent towards him – she found herself laughing hysterically. It was nice to laugh and feel her face changing, and feel something other than fear and despair and worry. She laughed and laughed and laughed, until her face ached and tears of mirth poured down her face. She knew she must look a sight right now, but she didn't care.

Barty stood up and helped Luna to her feet. "I think you've had enough to drink, Luna," he muttered. She stopped laughing slowly as she stumbled over her chair, and pushed Barty's hands off her, sniggering.

"I think I can get myself to bed, Mr Crouch," she replied, and staggered towards the stairs. Within moments, however, she had tripped over thin air and fallen, flat out, on the floor in front of the door she had been about to walk through. She laid there for a few moments, and then started to laugh again.

Barty walked over to Luna and placed his hands on her waist to pull her to her feet. The alcohol he'd had had only just started to have some particular effects on him, too – the girl that he had initially found so odd and unusual, was actually remarkably pretty. He'd never really noticed the beauty of a woman before – leaving Hogwarts and joining the Death Eaters straight away didn't leave much time for relationships, and he had never fully appreciated the few women he'd been with sexually. But he was noticing different things about Luna. Her long, dirty blonde hair framed her soft face in a gentle way, and her skin was pale and flawless – normally, anyway. At the moment, with her drunken stupor and her fits of laughing, her cheeks were stained rosy red, and the skin around her eyes was beginning to swell slightly with tears from laughing. But Barty still strangely found some kind of attraction in her, especially the way her great, silvery-grey eyes watered up at him in a mesmerizing way.

She was still staring at him when he pulled her fully to her feet, and he was holding her up by the arms, and looking back down at her. "I think I have had too much to drink," she whispered slowly, after the five minutes they spent staring into each other's eyes.

She turned away from him, and slowly started to walk up the stairs. Barty had wandered over to the bottom of the stairs, and was watching her staggering up each step, clinging onto the banister for dear life. He noticed how small her waist was, and wondered how she would feel beneath his hands, if he were to be holding her there, intimately…

He shook himself out of that mind-set. She was a seventeen year old girl, and he was twice her age. But nevertheless, he was lured up the stairs after her.

When he climbed to the fourth floor, she had already stumbled into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed. The lights were out, but he could see her frame in the moonlight from outside. He leaned against the door-frame, watching her as she struggled to peel off her sweater as she was laid down. He stepped inside her room, and shut the door behind him. The noise of the door closing alerted Luna's attention, and she snapped her eerie gaze up at him. "What are you doing in here, Barty?"

"I wasn't finished talking to you, yet," he replied. He kicked off his shoes and walked over, sitting down on the bed beside her. Luna lay back, and averted her gaze to the ceiling, looking blank.

"I don't understand you," she said in her slurred tones.

"What don't you understand?"

"You have been so cruel to me. You speak to me like…and I don't know why you really made me come here with you…because you clearly just want to…to hurt me. You hit me around the face, and…it hurt a lot," Luna was still blinking at the ceiling and droning on in her drunken ramble. "But I don't know why you did it, and I don't know why you came in here and fixed me in the night…I just don't know. I think I want to go home."

Barty closed his eyes and lay down on the bed beside her.

"Will I ever get to go home?"

"I don't know, Luna."

Luna didn't reply, but turned her head so that she was looking at him. He was lying flat on his back, his eyes shut tightly. She had never seen him look this peaceful. He didn't seem like the same person that she had seen in the newspapers a few years ago, when he did what he did at the Triwizard Tournament. His mouth was open slightly, his chest rising and falling, and she could see a shadow of stubble growing on his neck. He didn't even seem like the same man that had slapped her in the face.

The memory of the incident whizzed across her mind, searing her like a red-hot poker. She recoiled away from him, and he felt her movements. He opened his eyes, and turned his head to look at her with those strange brown eyes – so strange, because his mood seemed to change through them all the time. "I can't let you go home yet, Luna."

"Why?" she asked, staring back up at him.

"I can't tell you."

Luna was silent, and they stared at each other for several moments. Slowly, Barty edged closer to her, and he reached a hand out to grip at her waist. He pulled her into him suddenly, and the next thing she knew, her cheek pressed against his chest. She could hear his steady heartbeat in her ear, and even though she felt so strange pressed up against the person she was growing to detest so intensely, it felt weirdly peaceful to know that even Barty, this man who seemed so unnatural, was a human just like everyone else. Luna didn't know, but she guessed it was confidence blessed on her by the Firewhiskey that pushed her to wind her arms around his shoulders, and pull herself further into him. He buried his face in her neck and hair, and she felt him breathing in deeply, and then letting out a long, shuddering breath. She blinked at the wall behind him, but allowed him to carry on. Both of his arms were wrapped around her waist now, his hands flat against her back. She was so confused, but now, in the haze of their drunkenness, seemed like an appropriate time to talk to him.

"Barty," she whispered into the darkness.

"Hmm," he murmured into her skin.

"Why do you sometimes scream in the night?"

There was a long, painful silence. Barty's hands gripped momentarily at her back, and she feared the worst for a few moments, but it passed. "I have flashbacks," he whispered suddenly. His voice sounded unusual – like it was broken. "And I can't get out of them sometimes."

Luna didn't understand this statement very well, but Barty's voice sounded so strange that she didn't dare pursue the matter further. Instead, she allowed him to remain there, breathing in the scent of her until he fell asleep. She could tell he'd fallen asleep because his breathing evened out, and his grip loosened on her.

But Luna remained awake until the early hours of the morning. As she had started to sober up, her mind was flowing with thoughts. The missing owl was still looming in the back of her mind, but for the moment, all she could think about was Barty. Her theories had been confirmed – there was something amiss with the older man. He was broken in a way that she couldn't comprehend or understand – and wasn't sure if she wanted to understand.

oOo


	9. The Owl's Return

oOo

When Barty woke up, his head was aching. He blinked in the daylight; the room he was in was one he didn't sleep in usually, he knew this because there was sunlight streaming through his eyelids, and he usually kept his bedroom curtains closed day and night. He sat up, and rubbed the back of his head groggily. He was in his mother's old bedroom - Luna's room.

He looked to the right of him, and saw the girl sprawled on her back. Her hair was fanned out around her; her mouth was slackened open, snoring softly. Suddenly, the memories started flooding back to him – he'd brought the Firewhiskey out and told her that they were going to get drunk, he'd followed her up to bed…he knew they hadn't done anything _sexually _because even though he had stripped out of his clothes at some point during the night, she was completely clothed. He also remembered that he'd told her about the flashbacks he had when she asked him.

He cursed himself mentally. How could he think that having a drink and loosening Luna up would have been a good idea? He'd drunk too much himself, and made himself emotionally vulnerable. He may as well just start spilling his innermost secrets to her, making her aware of every single thing that was unwell in his brain. She knew there was something wrong with him – she heard him on a night, she'd told him that.

Barty climbed out of bed and brushed himself down, beginning to quietly pick up his clothes from the floor and climb into them. He looked to the clock that was on the wall, which read eight-forty-five. He had less than fifteen minutes to get to work for his second day – being late would do him absolutely no favours.

He ran his long fingers through his hair several times, and cast one last glance over at the sleeping girl on the bed. This kind of behaviour couldn't continue. She needed to know where she stood. He made a mental note of that, and rushed off downstairs to the fireplace.

oOo

It was in the afternoon when Luna finally stirred. She was awoken to the sound of a _tap-tap-tap_ on glass, and she rubbed her eyes with her fists. Her head was pounding, and felt even worse as she sat up. How could people drink like this all the time? She didn't know, and hoped inwardly that Barty would never decide they were to drink again.

The tapping continued, and Luna looked over to the window. Her heart somersaulted with relief – Barty's fat tawny owl was perched on the outside ledge, clutching two envelopes in its beak. She dived off the bed, forgetting all about her aching temples in that moment, and wrenched the window open. The bird hopped inside and dropped the letters, and started clicking its beak up at Luna hopefully.

"I don't have anything for you," she replied excitedly, looking at the envelopes. The owl pecked her fingers impatiently, and she held her arm out. "Come on then, I'll take you to your cage. The bird jumped onto her arm, and she dropped the envelopes onto the bed as she walked to the door.

She carried the bird down to Barty's room, and discovered with another leap of her heart, that it was untouched. He had slept in her bed last night, and had apparently not even visited his bedroom since he had left it the morning before. She inwardly thanked whoever was watching down on her, and deposited the owl back in its cage. The bird instantly started eating bird food from the overfull tray, allowing Luna to close the padlock shut and rushing back upstairs to her bedroom.

She sat on the end of the bed and seized both envelopes, analysing the small, neatly joined script on one envelope, which she knew belonged to Ginny, and the second one was the long, slanting handwriting of her father. She opened the one from Xenophilius Lovegood first.

_Dear Luna, _

_I know you are not safe. I don't know when you wrote the letter you sent me, but a day before it arrived, the Weasley family turned up on our doorstep to ask if you had returned home. They were all very worried, but they seemed to be aware of the Vow – as they wouldn't tell me whether or not you had spent time with them. I assume you must have been there, as I can't understand why they would be looking for you. _

_Where are you, my darling? Please come home at once. We will make arrangements together and run away – we will leave the country. I can contact the Ministry of Magic immediately and if he has done anything to you we can have him sent back to Azkaban, where the Dementors will surely give him the kiss. Please return to me – I am desperately worried for you. I have regretted my stupid schoolboy actions ever since you were born, but moreso since you left home. _

_I love you dearly. _

_Your father,  
Xenophilius Lovegood_

There were tears in Luna's eyes when she finished reading her father's letter. She should have known that the Weasley's would head straight over the hill to her home to see if she had returned to her father, and now she felt bad for lying and saying she was safe and out of Barty's clutches. He was probably more worried about her now than he had been originally, so she mentally noted to tell him the truth in her next letter. That she was with him, but for the moment she was safe. She read and reread the letter several times, tracing her finger over his last line. As her tears began to drip down her face, she folded the letter up hurriedly, so to avoid crying on the letter and the ink running. Sometimes he could be difficult to live with, and he hadn't always taken as great care of her as he should – but she loved him with all her heart, and knew he only meant the best for her.

She wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve, and picked up the letter from her friend. This envelope felt thicker, so she was expecting a longer response from Ginny.

_Luna, _

_Thank Merlin you are alive! We all thought you had been killed. There was no trace of you in Percy's bedroom at all, so we assumed you had either been murdered and your body taken or you'd Apparated in the bedroom. We searched miles around the Burrow for absolutely no sight of you! Everyone is panicking and looking for you. We had to check with your father to see if you were there, but I think we did everything we could to keep your whereabouts out of it so they can't get any information from him._

_Dad even made an enquiry at the Ministry about Barty Crouch Jr. He spoke to a bloke called John Dawlish, who is apparently the WatchWizard for him. He tried to get some information from him, and told him that it was likely that you had been kidnapped by him. He told Dad he's been almost every day since Barty was released, and he's seen no sight of a girl, but apparently the monster is _working _at the Ministry as well? Dawlish said that even if you are with him, he's at no liberty to barge into his house and search for you. And there may even be some loopholes. As you said to me in your last letter, you willingly went with Barty and you are of age, and there was no spell or potion used to force you to go with him, so the Ministry are probably unable to convict him for kidnapping you. But now that we know he works at the Ministry, we are doing what we can – Dad's going to try and keep an eye out for him, and Harry, Hermione and Ron are there most days too. Even Percy has offered to help as he has quite a high status within the Ministry. Bill and Fleur are also visiting at some point – they have to go to the Administrative Registration Department or something to register their marriage, obviously there was no chance of doing that when they first got married last year. _

_So please try not to worry too much! The Ministry is huge but only so huge – he'll be found and everyone will do what they can. Hermione has already come up with a great plan – but I won't discuss this further in case it falls into the wrong hands. _

_I can't believe he hit you, Luna. I hope to God I get my hands on him, because I will kill him! You don't deserve to be treated like that. None of this is your fault, in fact it's not even Barty Crouch's fault. You're both acting on the mistake made by your Dad, and the stupid, stupid idea Barty Crouch's crazy Granddad had. I only wish that he could see sense, and realise that he didn't _have _to act on this stupid Vow. But then again, this is an ex-Death Eater we are talking about; they don't exactly stick to the norm. _

_You have mentioned that you have no idea where you are, because you were stunned when you arrived. I think that this might give you some more hope – I don't think you are at the opposite side of the country, anyway. Dad said that the Crouch Family lived somewhere north of London. He spoke to a few people at work, and someone said that they had visited Barty Crouch Senior about twenty years ago, and while he didn't mention where he lived, he said it was a house handed down to their family from the Black family. Nearly all the Black's lived in London – so don't worry too much. You're definitely not out of England, anyway. Also, the owl you sent didn't seem too tired when it arrived, and judging by how chubby and unfit it was, it should definitely have needed a nap before heading out again, but it didn't. _

_We're keeping ahead of the situation. I don't know if you've noticed or if he's arrived yet, but I've sent Pig with the owl that brought the letter. Ron's okay with this (he isn't really fond of him). I thought it would be more appropriate, as I'm presuming that bird would be Barty's. _

_Keep me updated – we are all really concerned. _

_Love,  
Ginny_

Luna was breathing hard when she finished Ginny's letter. She gave a shriek of shock all of a sudden, as a tiny, white ball of fluff had just collided with the window ledge. Luna ran over to the window, and reached out and grabbed the tiny owl in her fist, and placed him down on the sideboard. He squawked up at her, looking hopeful.

"You can go back soon, I'll write back to them now," she told the owl, with a glance over at the clock. It was already two 'o' clock, and Barty would be home by four, and she was sure he would be expecting her to cook dinner once again. This was the only time she had, if she waited until tomorrow to write, Barty was likely to discover the tiny owl – which was shrieking and hooting loudly. She sat on her bed again, and grabbed her back. Within a few moments, she had parchment and ink out, and was writing out hasty replies, starting with her father.

_Dear Daddy,_

_I'm sorry I lied to you. I am only thinking of you. I don't want you to worry. But I am safe – yes, I am with him – but I am safe. He hasn't hurt me, and he keeps me comfortable in a nice bedroom. I'm without my wand, but he works now and I'm left to my own devices throughout the day. Please think about what I said in regards to moving somewhere else. I have had a letter from Ginny Weasley, and she's told me that her family are working on a plan to help me escape. Please don't worry, I promise I'm fine. _

_Love,  
Luna_

Luna had deliberately left out the part about him hitting her. She didn't want him to have that on his conscience. She stuffed the parchment into an envelope, and wrote _Xenophilius Lovegood _across the front, along with his address, and then she started on the letter to Ginny.

_Dear Ginny,_

_Thank you for sending Pig. You're right; it will be easy to communicate to you with him. I only closely avoided Barty finding out that I had used his owl, so I don't want to risk using it again. _

_I'm so sorry I had you all worried. As I said, I really didn't want to risk Barty hurting anyone if I called for help, and he'd already taken my wand. Please try not to keep worrying about me – I know it's hard after what I told you last – but something happened between Barty and I last night (nothing bad I swear) and I think I'm starting to see a different side of him. I'm going to try my best to keep out of his way when he's in a mood, so I should avoid anything like that. _

_I'm so grateful for all the help that you and your family are giving me. If I can find out any information about where I am, or what office Barty works in or something, I'll let you know straight away. I've told my Dad to leave the house in Ottery St. Catchpole, but whether he will or not, I don't know. I really don't want him involved in this because if I escape, I know Barty will go straight there. _

_Try to keep Pig sending me letters through the daytime. _

_Love,  
Luna_

She folded the letter up and sealed it inside another envelope, scribbling _Ginny Weasley_ across the front. Then, when Pig hopped over to her, she held both envelopes out to him, which he clamped tightly into his beak, and he flew out of the window.

Luna hoped that something could be sorted out soon. After an insight into Barty's messed up world last night, she was even more desperate to get out of here and as far away from the dangerous man as she could.

But after the embrace they had shared for most of the night, she couldn't deny there was a slight twinge in her heart when she remembered the broken voice he had spoken in when he admitted to her the reasons for his episodes.

oOo


	10. Searching the Ministry

oOo

It had been over a week since Luna had gone missing from the Burrow, and Bill and Fleur had been down there only a few times since her disappearance. They knew, however, that the rest of the Weasley family were elaborating a plan to get her back, and they were to be part of it – for today, anyway.

Fleur was six months pregnant with their first child, and the couple knew that they needed to register their marriage and their pregnancy with the Ministry of Magic. They had received a letter three weeks ago with the instructions to enter the Ministry and perform the ten minute appointment to register their marriage, and today was the day they were planning to do it. They had come to the Burrow first, however, because Mr Weasley wanted to run a few things by with Bill. It was eight 'o' clock in the morning, when Bill and Fleur apparated swiftly in front of his parents' house.

"Bill, you're here," Mr Weasley greeted as Bill and Fleur entered the kitchen through the back door. Mr Weasley, Percy, Harry, Hermione and Ron were all sat around the table, and Mrs Weasley was setting the pots from breakfast to wash, with a wave of her wand.

"Oh, hello my dears," she called over. "Would you like anything to eat?"

Fleur shook her head, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "No, _merci_, Molly. We 'av just 'ad breakfast before arriving," she wandered over to the area of the kitchen that Mrs Weasley was occupying, with the intentions of helping her tidy up. Even though Mrs Weasley was perfectly adept at cleaning the entire house with just a few wand motions, she gathered that Fleur wanted to allow Mr Weasley to talk to Bill and the others alone.

"Today is the day," Mr Weasley was saying. "We're _all _at the Ministry on the same day, which gives us six chances to find Barty Crouch Junior there. I am on duty for the entire day, so I'm going to be flitting between offices, which gives us an added bonus," Mr Weasley nodded towards Bill. "You and Fleur will be on the lower ground in the Administration Department, so you'll be able to get a good look around before and after your appointment. Harry and Ron, you will be in the Auror Office, so even if you don't see any sight of him, you can ask any of your seniors if they know anything about him. Percy, you will be…"

"Level one, all day, Father," he replied, his smug tone evident. "I have an audience with the Minister about the misuse of Portkeys in Scotland."

"Hermione—where will you be, again?"

"Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Hermione answered, sounding apologetic. She gestured to a pile of pink pamphlets in front of her. "The _SPEW _motion is going quite well, especially now the Ministry are funding it. I don't think it's likely that I will find Barty Crouch Junior amongst the house elves."

"No, unlikely – but still, keep your eyes and ears alert. Barty isn't the only ex-Death Eater that has found a job at the Ministry, but he is one of the worst. I know a lot of people who work there have been talking about it since he's been there," Mr Weasley replied. He stood up. "Well. No time like the present. Percy, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I will be taking the Floo Network. But I'm sure you're aware, you and Fleur will have to use the visitors entrance," he added to Bill.

"Yes, we're aware," Bill replied. Mrs Weasley and Fleur came back over as the rest of the people sat around the table stood up.

"Are you going, dears?" She asked. They all nodded, and started hustling into the living room. "Well. Send word if you find out anything – I know Ginny will be asking if there's any news when she wakes up."

Mr Weasley, Percy, Harry, Ron and Hermione all wandered into the living room, where they could be heard shouting "Ministry of Magic!" one by one, and vanishing in the fireplace. Bill took his wife's arm, and led her outside, as they both waved goodbye to Mrs Weasley.

Bill performed the Apparition, and within minutes, they were stood outside a red telephone box, on a secluded street of London.

"I've never been through the visitor's entrance before," Bill told Fleur as they stepped inside the little red box. He picked up the telephone and held it to his ear, and then spelled out the combination – six-two-four-four-two – on the keypad. The smooth, cool tones of the Welcome Witch seeped into his ear.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Means of your visit?"

"We're registering our marriage."

"How many visitors are here today?"

"Two."

There was a shuffling noise within the keypad, and two button-sized badges slid out in the place where change would normally go. Bill picked them up and passed one to Fleur, and they both fastened them to the breasts of their robes. They read _"Visitors – Administrative Registration Department"_.

"Thank you," Bill replied back into the phone.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," she responded, and the line went dead. Seconds later, the ground began to lower, sinking them into the ground like a lift.

They arrived in the magnificent Atrium of the Ministry moments later. Bill allowed Fleur to have a minute to stare in awe around her at the huge Atrium, and she tossed a few knuts into the fountain below the enormous golden statue as they walked past towards the lifts.

Mr Weasley was waiting at the lifts also. He climbed into it along with Fleur and Bill, and they both shot down into the depth of the Ministry. Mr Weasley leaned forward to Bill just before the lift stopped at the Administrative Registration Department. "Good luck," he whispered. "Remember – don't make your intentions known to him. Just take mental notes and get information."

Bill nodded, and walked out of the lift when the grilles snapped open, his arm linked with Fleur's.

When they walked through the doors of the Administration Department, they were greeted by a witch sat behind a desk. She was quite short and thin, and she had dark hair streaked with grey which was fastened up in a tight bun. She was wearing thick-rimmed glasses, and was sat upright in a straight-backed chair, scribbling something rapidly on a roll of parchment. "Welcome to Administration," she greeted in a bored tone, not looking up. "Do you have an appointment?"

Bill leaned on the desk and cleared his throat. She looked up at him, and raised her eyebrows considerably, her eyes scanning over the scars on his face. Fleur leaned on the desk too, and narrowed her eyes at the receptionist, silently daring her to comment. "No, not an official one," Bill started. "We got a letter to say to just turn up."

"What's your business here?" The woman had forced a sickly smile onto her features, trying to look like she hadn't just previously been judging Bill's facial deformity.

"We were wed last year," Fleur replied in her airy tones. "But because of 'zee war, we could not register 'zee marriage with you. I 'ope you will take us to someone who can file 'zis for us."

The woman nodded, and took a piece of lilac coloured paper from a drawer at her knees. She wrote a quick note on it, and flourished her wand afterwards. The paper rose into the air and folded into the shape of a paper airplane before their eyes, and then sped off behind her. "Just a few moments, and someone should be with you."

A squat, balding man came bouncing down the corridor, clutching the piece of paper that had previously been folded into an airplane. He thanked the receptionist, and shook hands with Bill, and bowed deeply to Fleur. "Welcome, welcome. May I take your names?"

"William Arthur Weasley," Bill answered. "But you can call me Bill."

"Fleur Isabelle Weasley," Fleur continued.

"My name is Stamford Jorkins," the bald man greeted, shaking Bill's hand once again. "I'm glad you've arrived so early! I can get you registered and cleared up before the day properly starts," he said, gesturing over to the clock, which read quarter-to-nine. "Come with me."

He led Bill and Fleur down through a corridor, to the last office. There were two desks in the room, one that was relatively neat at the forefront of the office, with two chairs in front of it. At the back of the office, there was a smaller desk against the wall, with a large, brown box full of paperwork on top of it. Stamford held out one of the chairs in front of his desk, gesturing for Fleur to sit, which she did, and Bill sat in the other one. Stamford retreated to his own seat behind his desk, and pulled out a form from a drawer in the desk.

"Just a couple of questions. We'll start with you, Mr Weasley. Birth year?"

"Nineteen-seventy."

"Blood status?"

"Pure-blood. But I was bit by a werewolf when it was in human form. I don't transform to a full werewolf, though. Just left me with some werewolf traits."

Stamford looked queasy, and his eyes scanned over the scarring on Bill's face. "Nationality?"

"British."

"Any children?"

"Not yet," Bill looked over at Fleur and smiled softly.

"And now you, Mrs Weasley," Stamford nodded at Fleur. "Birth year?"

"Nineteen-seventy-seven."

"Blood status?"

"Part-Veela."

Stamford raised his eyebrows. "Part-Veela? Well, well, I don't think there is anyone like that in our records. Do you know exactly how many parts?"

"A quarter. My Grandmuzzer was a full Veela."

"I did notice some Veela-like qualities, Mrs Weasley. Very interesting, very interesting indeed," Stamford added some extra notes on his form. "Your nationality?"

"_Je suis Français," _she replied in French.

"French! A French part-Veela. My, my, Mr Weasley, you are a lucky man!" He laughed amiably, and Bill smiled in response, squeezing his wife's hand.

Stamford had a few more questions for them, which the couple answered dutifully. After reeling off their date of marriage, reason for not immediately registering and made the Ministry aware of Fleur's pregnancy and due date, Stamford had completed the form. Just as he was standing up and telling Bill and Fleur that they were to register their baby as soon as he or she was born, the door swung open.

A man in his early thirties, with light brown hair that hung in his eyes, entered the office. He looked tired, like arriving somewhere before ten 'o' clock was a human impossibility. He had a long brown coat on over his robes, which he was currently pulling off and hanging on the coat rack by the door. He nodded to Stamford, crossed over to the untidy desk at the back of the room, where he sat.

"Ah, Crouch, right on time – very prompt, as always," Stamford said cheerfully. He looked back at Bill. "Barty Crouch is my new assistant. He's doing very well despite his, erm, previous…_convictions. _Isn't that right, Crouch?"

"Don't patronise me," the man replied gruffly, and he suffered from a sudden twitch - his tongue flicked out of the corner of mouth strangely. Stamford laughed, as if he had just told a particularly enjoyable joke.

"Nice to see you've nearly finished that filing, Crouch, and that you're doing it properly instead of manually – but don't get too comfortable, I have one more new one here for you now! It can go to the top of the pile of inter-wizard marriages."

Barty Crouch had already brandished his wand and waved it at the huge brown box on the desk, and forms that were similar to the one Stamford had just completed on Bill and Fleur's wedding were soaring out of the box and floating onto two separate piles. Stamford placed the new form onto the top of one of the piles, and smiled at the couple.

Bill was staring into the back of Barty's head, shocked. He had known that the ex-Death Eater would be here in the middle of the Ministry, but he hadn't expected it to be this easy. They had been here no longer than half an hour – and here he was, strolling into the office and setting to work, completely unknowing of Bill and Fleur's (and everyone else who had come with them to the Ministry) motives. Bill desperately wanted to say something to him – ask him what he was doing with Luna Lovegood – but he remembered his father's warning. He knew something – Barty worked right here under Stamford Jorkins' nose, in the Administration Department.

"Well, time to leave, Fleur," Bill croaked, tearing his gaze away from the back of Barty's head. Fleur seemed to notice there was something amiss, and entwined her arm with his. Stamford walked them back to the office, thanked them for coming, and waved them away until they were back in the lift.

oOo

The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione were all silent after they had listened to what Bill told them.

"I just can't believe it. We spent the whole day scouring the Ministry, and he's been right there all along. Just sitting in Stamford's office and separating marriage records!" Mr Weasley shook his head. Ginny piped up next.

"Well, now we know where he works, what next?"

"I have some information you may be interested in," Percy announced importantly. "I spoke to Minister Shacklebolt today about this situation, after our meeting. He knows Luna from the Order of the Phoenix, and is apparently quite fond of her. While he has stated that there is nothing he can do until there is proof of her kidnap and proof of her residence at Barty Crouch's house, he has betrothed me with some substantial information."

"Well, spit it out then," George pressured him. Percy puffed out his chest dramatically, and reached inside his robes, pulling out a neat, square piece of paper.

"This is the address for the Crouch Manor in Islington, North London," Percy pressed the paper down in front of him. "We can't be sure if it's definitely this one, but Mr Crouch was the only male in his family – he had two sisters, who apparently married and retrieved different names, from what I learnt when I was his assistant before he died. I can only assume this must be the correct household for Barty Crouch Junior."

Ginny grabbed the paper and looked down at it, fire burning in her eyes. "Percy, you are _brilliant_. This is just what we need – we can formulate a plan now. Right, Dad? Harry?" Ginny looked from her fiancé to her father, and they both nodded.

"We will work it out. We need to make Luna aware of this, of course – so it may be a few days yet. Ginny, you should right to her as soon as possible," Mr Weasley ordered. "What a productive day this has been." He beamed around the table, his smile lasting a little longer on his wife, who was looking nervous and tired at the other end of the table.

oOo


	11. Emotions

**A.N: **There will be more Barty/Luna action from this chapter onwards. So if that's not what you were bargaining on, you're free not to carry on reading! :)

* * *

oOo

The days of being trapped in the Crouch Manor were turning into weeks. Each day seemed longer and more monotonous than the last. Every single day was the same thing – most days, anyway. Monday to Thursday – Luna would wake up and notice that Barty had gone to work. She would climb out of bed, shower and dress. Normally Pig would arrive – the replies from Ginny were getting faster, she was receiving something from her at least daily. She'd stopped corresponding with her father, as she knew he was worrying too much. She would write back to Ginny straight away, and get Pig sent back to her long before Barty could come home. Then she would go downstairs, read the same note that Barty always left her – _Gone to work. Clean and make dinner_ – and then she would complete the chores. She avoided spending any time with him, and had managed to perfect timing dinner so that it was ready five minutes before Barty would arrive home, and she would have slipped up to her bedroom before he appeared in the fireplace, leaving his dinner ready for him on the kitchen table.

He seemed not to care. In fact, after that drunken night they had spent together, he wasn't even making much effort to speak to her anymore. Luna wasn't seriously bothered either, in fact she was making the most of the peace he was giving her. It meant she had more time to think about the plan that Ginny, Harry, Hermione and the rest of the Weasley's were planning to help her escape from his house. But she couldn't deny the one thing that was unusual about these boring days, since their drunken incident.

Sometimes she thought it was a dream. But other times she would be wide awake beforehand and know for definite that she wasn't asleep. Occasionally she would hear Barty having an episode – a flurry of rage and the unmistakable sound of something shattering. Shortly after, Barty would creep into her bedroom in the dead of the night. She could see his milky complexion in the moonlight that would be streaming through the window, as he stood there in the doorway, shirtless, with his hair hanging into his eyes the way it did, casting a shadow over his face. He would climb onto the other side of her bed, and curl himself around her; winding his arms around her waist and drawing her into him. He would breathe her in, his large hands caressing her stomach and waist, but never did it go any further. And somehow, Luna just seemed to sleep better when he visited her in the night.

By morning he was always gone, leaving no trace of his presence, other than a dent in the pillow on the other side of the bed. She was sure that as the weeks went on his mood swings were becoming less rapid, but she wouldn't know for definite, having reduced her time spent in his company.

Fridays weren't as boring. Barty went for his Ministry check-up, but he never stayed there for the rest of the day to work. Stamford had started letting him go early, as he often didn't get out of his appointment until after lunch, and Stamford himself finished at two 'o' clock on Fridays.

This weekend, Luna knew that Barty wasn't going to be as easy on her as he had for a while. She knew from the minute she spotted him outside when he finished work. Firstly, he never came in from outside. He _always _used the Floo Network, so the sight of him storming towards the house was unusual. Secondly, his face was thunderous. He was dripping wet for some reason, even though the sun was gleaming outside. And thirdly, he called her name mutinously up the stairs, the minute the door swung open.

Luna took a deep breath, and slowly made her way downstairs. Her captor was in the kitchen, pointing his wand at his robes. There was a stream of hot air pouring from the tip, which he was using to dry his clothes and hair in turn. Luna stood in the middle of the kitchen and stared up at him, waiting. Once his clothes were substantial, he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and threw her a dirty look. Luna tried not to appear taken aback.

"I couldn't use the Floo Network today," Barty muttered. "There was a problem in the Department of Magical Transportation."

"Oh?" Luna blinked, unsure as to what this had to do with her.

"It was only my fireplace that had a problem, according to the red-haired gentleman who visited the area where I work, shortly before I left. But when I arrived in the Atrium I noticed everybody else travelling by Floo as normal." Barty pulled out a seat, which made a horrible squealing noise on the linoleum. "Sit down."

Luna hesitated for a moment. She could tell by his bitter, metallic tones that there was something going on here.

"Sit down!" He barked suddenly, making her jump involuntarily. She hurried over to the seat he had withdrawn and sat down in it obediently. "Listen to my story, Luna," he added in a softer voice.

Luna nodded, keeping her lips pursed shut. His voice hadn't sounded like this since the day he slapped her, and she didn't want a repeat of that event.

"So as it was lunchtime, I decided to take a visit to the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, and ask him why the _fuck _I couldn't get home by Floo," Barty was stood directly behind Luna, and his hands had dropped onto her shoulders, once again making her flinch. He began to massage her shoulders and neck gently, pushing the sleeves of her t-shirt down to her arms. "But, the head of that office – who I discovered was a gentleman by the name of Percy Weasley – was out on his lunch break."

Luna's heart sank at the mention of Percy's name.

"But I entered the office myself, because that is just what I do," Barty continued his work on Luna's shoulders, and leaned forward suddenly, so his breath was hot on the back of her neck. "My, you are tense, Luna." He straightened back up, and Luna could hear the smirk in his voice. "I thought I would check the files for my address in his office, and see just what the problem was with my fireplace. Only I didn't need to go through the filing cabinets or cupboards. Do you know why, Luna?"

"No," Luna replied in a small voice.

"There was a file already on young Percy's desk. Not just a file on my house, but a file entirely on me! Why would the head of the Department of Magical Transportation have a file on _me_? So I opened it, and Percy has been compiling records about me! He's been taking information from other departments about me and my family and my house. So I realized – the red-haired man who told me that it would be impossible to use the Floo Network to get home was actually the head of the Department of Magical Transportation – Percy Weasley. I wondered; why on earth would the head of the department come tell me this himself? He didn't send an assistant, or even a memo. Very unusual behavior, don't you agree, Luna?"

Luna was silent once again. "I asked you a question!" He hissed, gripping at her neck.

"Yes!"

"Good," Barty's hands relaxed and continued their work. "So I took this file, which is there." Luna noticed a brown sheaved folder, with _Bartemius Crouch Junior_ inscribed on the front. "My address has been circled, and I couldn't help but wonder what this enthusiasm was for my address? I wanted to know whether the Floo Network really _was _having a problem linking me home, so I took the risk of using the fireplace inside Percy Weasley's office to arrive home."

"What happened?" Luna whispered hoarsely.

"Oh, I traveled here normally of course. I arrived home in the living room just short of half an hour ago. The red-haired man was stood here in my living room, right over there, brushing himself down. I grabbed him and he apparated instantly, taking me with him. When I let go, we were in the middle of a wizarding village in London. He was panicking, and he used some kind of water hex against me, hence why I was soaking wet. Before I could retaliate, he had dissapparated. I was nowhere near a fireplace to get back home, so I apparated back here, to the end of the street. I was walking down, wondering what I was going to do about this intruder…and do you know what I saw, Luna?"

Luna's face had turned sheet-white. She knew perfectly well what he had seen. There was nothing she could say to deny it. Both of his hands clawed around her throat again, tightly, but still loose enough for her to breathe. Her lip shook.

"_Answer me!"_ he spat, throttling her.

"N-no!" she cried out. Barty's grip tightened on her neck, and he hauled her out of the chair and thrust her against the wall, staring into her face. She knew that manic look on his face – it was the same one as last time, the same evil gleam in his eye, the curl of his lip and his tongue which was twitching into the corner of his mouth erratically.

"I saw an owl!" He yelled. "Flying away from my house! Who could have sent an owl, Luna?" He was shouting loudly now, his voice booming in her face. She clutched at his hands that were around her neck, silently begging him to release her. She could feel a compressing feeling on her windpipe, and tears sprung into her eyes. "Who have you been communicating with?"

"B-Barty…" she choked, staring back at him with her glassy grey eyes. "Please…"

He glared back at her for a minute, and dropped her suddenly. She grasped the side of the counter with one hand, and rubbed her aching neck with the other.

"Who have you been communicating with?" he asked her again in a horrible voice. Her mind instantly stated forming a lie, an excuse, anything to get her out of trouble. But there was nothing she could say – he had seen the owl. Luna had been clever enough not to risk keeping the letters she received from Ginny. She put them in the rubbish every day, and incinerated the garbage with a match, so he was never going to find out what she had been saying. But he was almost definitely going to be keeping a closer eye on her now, and the moment he got hold of a letter from Ginny, he would know what they were discussing. She simply couldn't lie to him – he would find out, sooner or later. "Answer me!"

"Ginny!" Luna shouted back into his face. The tears began to pour down her face as she confessed. "My friend, Ginny…"

Barty's face was uncomfortably close to hers. "What have you been talking about?" he snarled. Luna swallowed, and glared back at him with all the effort she could muster, even though her hands were shaking.

"I'm trying to escape. I don't want to be here with you anymore," she narrowed her eyes at him and willed herself to keep staring him out. "That's probably why Percy was here, even though I didn't know he had turned up. He was probably making sure this was the right place."

There was a long, painful silence. Barty remained stood in front of Luna, and she was backed up against the counter. They stared at each other, listening to only the other breathing for what seemed like an eternity. Then, Luna began to notice a change in Barty's face and stance.

He seemed to droop; his shoulders, his head, and his face. The rigid, angry expression that had been fixated on his features just two minutes before had wilted, and he was now looking downwards, away from Luna. The corners of his mouth had dropped, and his hands hung by his sides. Simply put, he looked crestfallen. Luna almost couldn't believe her eyes.

"You're trying to run away?" He murmured – much to Luna's horror, in that same, broken voice that was haunting her dreams since she had heard it the first time. She couldn't deal with this, not now. Even though it seemed crazy to her, she immediately wished he was still angry with her. She knew how to react to his anger – this behavior was hard to interpret – why did he have to suffer this intense emotional irregularity?

The next thing, she really didn't expect. She remained, pressed up against the counter and frozen, as Barty backed away from her. He turned around, and started walking away silently – or so she thought. In the next second, he gave a deep roar of fury, which seemed to stun Luna to her very core. Suddenly, he had a plate in his hand, and he was hurtling it at break-neck speed, right at Luna's face. She gasped and jerked left, and the plate shattered on the counter right where her head had just been.

"Please!" She cried suddenly. "Calm down—" she was broken off as another plate ricocheted off a cupboard. It continued – one plate after another, until Luna was sure he couldn't have any dinnerware left. She found solace in the far corner of the kitchen, in the gap beside the refrigerator, and when she looked out to see if he had calmed down: he hadn't. He was on his hands and knees on the kitchen floor, grabbing shards of broken porcelain, his hands bleeding profusely, his breathing heavy and erratic. He looked up and looked at Luna directly, and she swallowed – hard. This was the scariest she had ever seen someone behave – his eyes looked more crazy and wild than they ever had done. "Please…calm down…"

"Come…" Barty gasped, sounding breathless. Luna edged out from her gap and paced over to him. He reached up and grabbed onto the front of her t-shirt with his bloody hand, using her as assistance to climb back to his feet. He was shaking all over – his eyes were wobbling, wide and demented. Was this what happened to him on a night, when she could hear him screaming? Was this the aftermath of one of his 'episodes', which is how Luna had begun to perceive them. What had happened to this man, to make him suffer such emotional turmoil? Why were his moods so irregular? Why couldn't he control it?

Why was she suddenly feeling such an overwhelming pity for him? All of a sudden, she wanted nothing more than to be upstairs in bed with him, the situation she often found herself in during the night.

"Barty," Luna whispered.

He fell towards her silently, and his arms enclosed around her. She allowed him to embrace her, fearing what would happen if she were to push him off. His arms were warm and protective, and when her head was pressed into his chest, she could hear the soothing sound of his heartbeat, which had calmed down considerably. She was getting used to these embraces, as they usually happened in the dead of the night.

Barty's hands lowered to her waist, and his head bent so that it was in the crook of her neck. His breath tickled her pleasantly, and Luna felt her body arching into the sensation. His hands were smoothing up and down her back, and she gasped involuntarily when his palms crept under the hem of her shirt, causing her spine to curve into his touch. Before she knew it, his palms were digging into the flesh of her hips, and he was trailing soft, wet kisses up and down her neck. The feeling was indescribable; like her insides were melting, leading all to a point that felt like it was deep in her lower belly. Her mind felt numb – that same kind of numbness she felt when she had been drunk on the Firewhiskey. A moan escaped her throat before she could register it.

The shock startled her back from the ethereal place her mind had just been. She pressed her palms against Barty's chest and pushed him away from her with all the strength in the body. He stood still, staring silently at her, and she stared back.

"What are you doing?" She asked him quietly. Her hand reached up to her neck and rubbed the place where his mouth had just been.

Barty remained silent, continuing to gaze down at her. "You're afraid."

Luna sighed deeply, and looked at her feet.

Barty reached forwards with his hand, and tilted her face up. "You can't leave, Luna," he muttered, for the second time since she had been here. "You need to accept that." He stepped towards her, filling the space that Luna had created between them when she pushed him away. His hand cupped her cheek, and circled around the back of her head, and then, without warning, he kissed her, hard.

His mouth was hot and his kiss was intense. He held her face in place by gripping the back of her hair, and clamping both of her hands in his free one. She was too alarmed to react – she never thought that she would ever be standing here, allowing this man to kiss her.

And in the next moment, she couldn't control her impulses. She was suddenly kissing him back, her arms circling around his neck and his around her waist once more. That feeling of pleasant mind-numbing-ness floated back over her brain – nothing mattered anymore, all she knew was that she was felt so content right now, even if she was sharing the moment with the psychotic man who had just been throwing plates in her general direction, no less than ten minutes ago. She was confused, and shocked, and scared, and worried, and…her mind was a hurricane of whirling feelings, thoughts and emotions that she couldn't make sense of right now.

Her fingers were in his hair, pulling him closer to her. His hands were slithering up the back of her shirt, warm and flat against her skin. "You know you can't leave, Luna," he murmured into her mouth, his voice strangely seductive. "You're mine."

oOo


	12. Doctor Babar & the Healing Clinic

**A.N: **I can't stress how much I long for some reviews on this! I know people are reading, as I'm getting high traffic and followers, but not as many reviews! Just a comment to let me know you're enjoying the story would suffice - I just want to know that people are getting it! I all my readers enjoy!

* * *

oOo

Barty was confused.

It had been another week since he and Luna had kissed in his kitchen, and after that moment, they had both gone to their separate rooms, flustered, embarrassed, and neither talking of the incident. Barty had magically locked all the windows to make sure she couldn't let in the owl that he had spotted. Even though they had gone back to the routine of avoiding each other completely, he knew that there was something different about her. While she had previously been unhappy and angry, she now just seemed confused. He noticed sometimes she would just be staring at him, nonspeaking. Especially in the night, as he was still continuing to sneak into her room in the early hours of the morning. She would lay there, motionless, like a marionette. The only way Barty could judge that she was actually alive was by the gentle rising and falling of her chest, and the way her huge, silvery eyes would blink occasionally as she gazed at him.

For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do.

He was still having mood swings by the plenty, and he was beginning to consider telling the Ministry Support Worker he spoke to on a Friday about these problems. This is how he came to be sat in the waiting room of a healing clinic that was located in a valley in Yorkshire, an hour after his weekly session at the Ministry.

He was clenching and unclenching his fists repetitively, beginning to regret his decision. He had opened up completely to John Dawlish when he spoke to him earlier that day, telling him all about Luna, how she had come back with him, and how he had acted aggressively towards her on two separate occasions. He didn't mention that he had essentially kidnapped Luna – in fact he didn't even use her name – he lied to Dawlish, telling him that Luna was a distant cousin who was staying with him because she didn't have anywhere else to live. Hell, did he tell Dawlish every last thing. It was like his mouth was out of control, everything was just pouring out of his throat like bile.

After listening to Barty discuss his nightly flashbacks and extreme mood swings, Dawlish looked green. He was used to these ex-Azkaban inmates coming and sitting across from him, looking sulky. Alecto and Amycus Carrow insisted on coming together, and they would both sit, arms folded, grunting their replies. Dawlish had to practically dig into them for responses. It was nine 'o' clock in the morning, of the last day of the week, and he had been hoping that Barty would be as unresponsive and awkward as he normally was – he was not ready for the emotional outburst that he was greeted with.

Two hours passed of Barty non-stop talking, and when he'd started to get onto a particular memory that haunted him, about his father making him sit in the kitchen cupboard for thirty minutes when he was naughty as a child – and Dawlish had to raise his hand to stop Barty. "I'm not a psychologist," he told Barty sharply. "These conversations we have are supposed to be about how you are integrating and coping within the society." He then went on to tell Barty that he was deeply concerned about his mentality, and was sure that the Ministry would decide he was unsafe to live in the community if something wasn't sorted out. So he contacted a Ministry-approved healing clinic, and sent Barty on his way for an appointment.

Barty was regretting saying anything. He'd just needed to tell _someone _in that moment – everything was just piling on top of him, and he wasn't sure how to go about dealing with it. He now knew, while he sat on this uncomfortable orange plastic seat, that he had made a wrong decision. He was just a little moody and irrational – why did this mean he needed to come see a doctor?

"Mr Crouch?" a high pitched voice spoke from above him. He looked up, and noticed a middle-aged woman in white robes, with a smart white hat perched on top of her grey updo. She was steel-framed spectacles and very red lipstick, which he noticed was smeared onto her front teeth. Barty stood up and nodded at her, and she beckoned for him to follow her. He did so, and she led him down a long corridor.

It was in that moment that Barty realized he hated hospitals. The walls and floors were too white, the lights were too bright and there was a constant smell of antiseptic, which he associated with illness, lingering in the air. Barty had only been to a hospital once before in his life, and that was to visit his mother when she had been ill, when he was still at Hogwarts. She directed him into a room to the left, and he followed her inside.

It looked, typically, like a doctor's office. There was a stretched out bed under the window, with a white sheet thrown over it. In the nearest corner of the room, there was a desk and two of the same orange chairs he'd been sat on in the waiting room. There were cabinets and cupboards around all the remaining space, and various medical charts up on the wall.

The tan-skinned doctor who had been sat at the desk stood up upon Barty's arrival, and shook his hand. He had a thick beard, and spoke with an accent. "Good morning, Mr Crouch, my name is Dr Babar. Please take a seat," he gestured towards the two available seats, and Barty sat down on one. Dr Babar took his place behind the desk, and beamed across at Barty. "I've received your records from a Mr John Dawlish from the Ministry of Magic. I've done some light reading into your past convictions, and I've agreed to give a little check up on you. Mr Dawlish has told me everything you told him today, so don't worry – there won't be any hard work. Well, not for you, anyway!" Dr Babar gave a low chuckle, looking at Barty as though he expected him to share the joke. Instead, Barty remained as silent and impassive as he could. The doctor coughed and looked down at some paperwork on his desk. "I believe that you have a disorder of your personality. An emotional instability, of sorts. John Dawlish thinks that if your mood swings continue, they may become a problem within your everyday life. And in that case, the Ministry – so you would have to go back to Azkaban."

Barty gripped his chair suddenly, and his eyes widened. "I can't go back there."

"Please don't panic. We can't cure your problem, as it's a mentality issue. Simply put it, it's unfixable. But we can manage it."

"What do you mean a mentality issue?" Barty could feel anger rising in his stomach. "What are you trying to say?"

"It's a mental health condition, Barty. But it's totally normal and manageable, with a particular potion that you would just have to take daily—"

"—there is nothing wrong with me! I've been in Azkaban for the last four years, and before that my father kept me shut up underneath an invisibility cloak and subject to the Imperius Curse! So of course I'm a little bit…eh…"

"…unstable," Dr Babar finished for him. Barty sprang to his feet, unable to contain his anger anymore. He shot Dr Babar a furious look, gritted his teeth, and ripped the door open. He charged down the corridor, pushing the red-lipped nurse into the wall as he shoved past her, and the clipboard of paperwork she was carrying soared out of her hands and all over the floor. Dr Babar rushed out after Barty, calling him as he did so – but it was all in vain. As soon as Barty reached the entrance of the healing clinic, he burst through the doors and onto the street.

There was a brief moment, in which Barty was dazzled by the sunlight, and then he was blinded by a glare of intense, electric blue.

"_Stupefy!" _screeched a female voice, and Barty's world became dark, as he plummeted to the ground.

oOo

"_Rennervate," _spoke a soft voice that seemed to be so far away. Barty's eyes opened slowly, and he was greeted by a flood of orange and red.

He was laid in a bed. He could tell straight away that he was in his own house, but not the bed he was used to sleeping in. Barty had spent most of his nights as of late in Luna's bed, but he could hear the low hooting of Hydra, his tawny owl, and knew he was in his own bedroom. His eyes adjusted, and he realized that there was a crowd of people in his bedroom, stood at the foot of his bed.

Barty jerked, and made a movement as if to grab his wand – but it wasn't in his pocket, or on his bedside table. He looked up at the oldest red haired man in front of him, and noticed he was holding Barty's wand in one hand, and his own in the other – which he was pointing at Barty. "Give me my wand back and get out of my house!" he hissed, sitting up and backing against the headboard. "What are you doing here?" He looked from person to person – there were five red haired men, two red haired women, the bushy haired girl he remembered was named Hermione Granger, and him. Harry Potter. Barty gritted his teeth in anger at the sight of him.

"We have taken Luna," the oldest man said in an unnaturally high voice. Even though it was eight against one, and they all had wands, most of them still had an air of fear about them. All apart from the Golden Trio, of course. "We just wanted you to be aware of that. I am going to leave your wand behind the moment before we dissapparate."

"How did you do this?" Barty snarled. "Just tell me."

It was the youngest red haired girl that spoke this time. Barty wondered if this was the friend Luna spoke of – Ginny. "Percy and my father were looking for you within the Ministry. They got to John Dawlish's office and he said you'd been sent to a healing clinic, so Ron, Harry, Hermione and I all apparated to that healing clinic. We were waiting outside for a sight of you, to stun you so that we could get to your house and rescue Luna. You're lucky we had the generosity to bring you back with us," she added snidely.

"Your doctor came running out after you," the older man was saying. Barty turned his attention to him. "He wasn't best pleased that you had been stunned, but he put the recipe for your potion in your coat pocket before we dissapparated with you."

They stood there for a few more moments, all of them looking down at him. Then, to his horror, Harry Potter spoke. "Why did you do it?" he muttered, glaring at Barty. He was clearly still bitter about his fourth year at Hogwarts. Barty felt himself smirking at the memory.

"Because I could," he replied sharply. No one decided to contradict him; instead they all started taking their positions to dissapparate. The man with Barty's wand was holding it out, getting ready to drop it on the floor the minute he planned to vanish. "She will come back?"

"I beg your pardon?" Ginny responded. He looked directly at her.

"She will come back. You don't know how it's been the last few weeks. Did you think I'd been locking her in her bedroom; feeding her scraps of toast under the door?" Barty threw his head back in laughter. "She sleeps with me. Something is happening between us…something I don't fully understand yet, you see. But we sleep together, we do things…" he was antagonizing them. "But she will come back. The feelings are too deep, and she has them too, whether she admits it or not," he licked his upper lip slowly. "She will come back."

"Shut up!" Ginny screeched suddenly, in the same voice that he recognized as the one that stunned him. She lunged forwards, onto the bed, and thrust the tip of her wand under his neck. He held his head high, and stared down at her, his tongue twitching into the side of his mouth, a smirk forming.

"Ginny, let's go. He's just trying to irritate you," Hermione whispered. Ginny retreated, and they resumed their positions. One by one, they began to dissapparated, finally leaving the older man alone.

"What's your name?" Barty asked curiously. He recognized the man.

"Arthur Weasley," Mr Weasley wasn't making eye contact. He held the hand out that was holding Barty's wand out. "I suppose I will see you around the Ministry, Barty. If you manage to stay out of trouble, that is. I must ask you – please don't come looking for Luna. You won't find her, and you will do us all – including yourself - a favor by just getting on with your life." There was the clatter of Barty's wand hitting the ground, and before he could even think about jumping up and grabbing it, Mr Weasley had vanished on the spot.

oOo


	13. The Calming Drought

**A.N: **Before anyone worries that this chapter is a bit boring - please don't judge me! It's only a short chapter to keep you aware what has happened since Luna was rescued. Please R&R!

- Also, I'm taking the rating back down to a T for now.

oOo

"…apparently there's something wrong with him…up there."

"…really? Well, it would explain it, wouldn't it…?"

"…yes. When I checked his updated records this morning, he's got to take the Calming Drought daily as a prescribed medication so that he can continue coming to work at the Ministry."

"…medication? Wow, it must be serious, then…"

"Dawlish thinks he's had a 'troubled past', and that's why he's, you know…like he is."

"What – a maniac? I could've told you that, Dad."

Luna opened her eyes slowly, listening to the conversation going on around her. When the Weasleys noticed that she was waking up, they hushed their conversation immediately. Luna realized she was back in Percy's old bedroom, with Mr and Mrs Weasley, George, Ginny and Hermione sat around her. She screwed and unscrewed her eyes a few times, adjusting to the light. Mrs Weasley rushed over to her nearest side. "Wha…where am I? Barty…?"

"Luna? Good morning, dear. Would you like some breakfast? Eggs, sausage, bacon? I mean, it's afternoon now, but I will happily whisk you something up…"

Luna was still half asleep. She struggled into a sitting position, and yawned loudly, not trying to cover her mouth. Mrs Weasley was flourishing her wand in the general direction of the door, and a ceramic mug and a jug of coffee came soaring into the bedroom, landing on her bedside table. Luna looked over at it, blandly.

Then she almost couldn't hold in her excitement. Not for the coffee – but the wand that was placed on the bedside table, the exact place she had left it before Barty took it from her when he came into this very room. She grabbed it, suddenly feeling very alert, and it warmed in her hand. "My wand…it's been so long since I've had my wand…" she beamed up at the Weasleys and Hermione.

"We took it from his person," Mr Weasley said with a small smile. He was keeping it in his coat."

Luna gazed up at him for a while. She hadn't failed to notice that he was avoiding saying Barty's name, but she couldn't understand why. There was a long silence, which Mrs Weasley inevitably broke.

"Would you like something to eat, dear?" she asked Luna again, pouring coffee into the mug and nudging it towards her. She took the cup and sipped it gratefully, but shook her head at the offer of food.

"I want to know what happened. I don't remember anything. She sat up, and looked at Hermione and Ginny questioningly. "Where are Harry and Ron?"

Hermione looked sheepish, but the expression soon passed. "Harry and Ron were with us when we stunned…him…and it looks as though he isn't able to go to work due to injury or…his mental…erm…" Hermione looked in the air as though she was looking for the easiest way to get this across to Luna. Luna continued to gaze at her patiently. "…disorder? The Ministry wanted to know who stunned him and why because it means he hasn't been able to work for a while. So Harry and Ron volunteered to go and justify the reason for it."

"But stunning isn't illegal," Luna replied.

"No it's not illegal, but because Bar…he…has apparently suffered injury – which we don't really believe, we think he's putting it on so that he can try and cause trouble for us – and can't go to work, we have to explain the reason for it to the Ministry. It's all part of a new regime, because there isn't as many employees as there was before, when people take a day off work they want to get right into the reasons," Mr Weasley explained.

"Why did you stun Barty?" she asked. "I know you were going to get me out of his house, but I didn't think you would _attack _him," Luna put her hand to her mouth almost as soon as she'd said the last part. Did she care about him? Why was she bothered that they had attacked him? They had attacked him because he was evil an ex Death Eater and he was keeping her locked away. As confused about her strange feelings as she was, Luna knew that she didn't think Barty was evil anymore.

Ginny raised her eyebrows – she had noticed the strange way Luna had looked away and covered her mouth after she had said that, like she was suddenly embarrassed. It was very unusual and out of character for Luna to act like that, so Ginny knew there was something amiss, but she didn't want to pressure Luna to answer her questions – yet. "We were worried about you," Ginny muttered, still suspicious of Luna's actions. "You stopped sending letters, and Pig kept bringing my letters back, unopened. We panicked – we thought the worst…"

"I couldn't answer your letters. Barty found out I was corresponding with you and he locked all the windows, so that I couldn't let Pig in," Luna said this with a strange air, as if she wasn't really bothered about this fact. Ginny looked even more suspicious.

"We found out he had gone to a healing clinic, though we didn't know why. We wanted to make sure we took him out before we got you, so that he couldn't burst in on us like he did when Percy went to his house," George told her.

"But…why was he going to a healing clinic…" Luna was talking to herself more than to her friends. Mr Weasley opened his mouth to start speaking, though he looked awkward. Mrs Weasley cut across him effortlessly.

"That is enough!" she hissed in a shrill voice. "Luna needs to eat, she needs to rest. She doesn't need to know this right now," she started gesturing for everyone to leave the room, and they all started shuffling around, looking at Luna apologetically. As soon as they had all left, Mrs Weasley picked up the jug and made to leave, but she shot a sad look back over at Luna. "I'm sorry, Luna. But you really ought to rest," gently, she closed the door, leaving Luna alone.

But Luna didn't need to rest. The Weasley's seemed to think that Luna had received such terrible treatment, that she hadn't slept or eaten in days, when it simply wasn't the case. She felt like she had slept for days – she probably had, as she couldn't remember even leaving the Crouch Manor. She was concerned, however – but she couldn't tell them why. There was a worry brewing inside of her, and she knew where it was rooted. Try as she might to deny it, she was worried about Barty. She couldn't begin to imagine how he was reacting after the events that had occurred.

oOo

Barty was laid on his back on Luna's bed, with his wand on his chest, staring at the ceiling. The light fitting was swaying back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

He was tired. He was hungry too, but he couldn't bring himself to eat. He was so angry with the brats that stunned him and took her away. It had been three days since she had gone, and Dawlish had taken to coming every day to check on him. Barty knew that the notes Dawlish was making would be skyrocketing by now. The first day after Barty had been stunned and taken back to his house, Dawlish had arrived with orders from the healing clinic. Babar had told him that he was to take the potion – a Calming Drought – every day, morning and night, to ensure a smoother run of emotions for the entire day.

After Dawlish had brewed the potion for him in the cauldron in his kitchen, Barty had agreed that he would take it at the prescribed times. He knew that if he didn't, and he continued to live the way he was, it was likely the Ministry would have him put back in Azkaban, especially if he acted on his unstable emotions. Dawlish made enough of the Drought to last him for three weeks, and all Barty had to do was take a cupful of it every time he needed it.

However, he did tell Barty that it would be the one and only time he would make the potion for him, and from then on, he would have to brew it himself.

It really did work. Almost immediately after taking it, Barty would feel all the rage and tension releasing, like a great big belt buckle was loosening. It was like he was breathing for the first time, and like the fogginess in his brain was lifting. He could see clearly and in these moments when the Calming Drought had kicked in, he was becoming more and more aware of how he felt for Luna.

Something about the younger girl had enticed him, and sucked him in. Her air of strangeness and her goggling, wide grey eyes. He hadn't realized before, when she had been here, but now she was gone…it was like something was missing within him. Just sleeping beside her at night had been changing Barty.

He hadn't thought about his master plan for the weeks that he had become confused about his feelings for Luna. When he first left Azkaban, his mind was brimming with ideas to overthrow the Ministry and take up in his old master's footsteps. He was still angry with the government, angry with his dead father, angry with everyone for what they did to him. He took Luna, the girl who was promised to him by her father, with the intentions of using her to assist his breakthrough. But now…he wasn't sure he cared about any of that stuff anymore.

She was changing him. Even though she didn't really do anything, there was something about her that was making him different. The Calming Drought was restricting the impulses he would normally have to destroy everything around him, but embarrassingly, he could still feel himself pining for her. He felt insane – his world was crashing down around him – all because he didn't have this person in his life anymore.

It was crazy. He hadn't even noticed how attached he'd become to her.

oOo


	14. Periwinkle Blue Robes

**A.N: **Things are going to get sexual from this chapter onward I repeat THINGS ARE GETTING EXPLICIT so don't read anymore if you're a minor or you'll get offended! You have been warned.

* * *

oOo

A week had gone by, and Luna wasn't feeling so good.

She didn't know what she wanted. The option had arisen for her to go back home, but when she walked over the hill to the house shaped like a rock, she noticed that her father had taken her advice and left. For a while, she felt quite abandoned. She had told him to go, but somehow she had just expected him to stay. After breaking into the house with the _Alohamora _spell, she noticed that Xenophilius Lovegood had left a note behind, (not to Luna, but to anyone who may read it) to say he was taking time out to take a tour of the world, and bring back real evidence of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, all for the point of a good article for _The Quibbler_. Even though she was quite depressed about his absence for a while, she saw the good points eventually. Her father would be changing his location constantly, and would be almost impossible to find.

She had offered to go back home alone, but Mrs Weasley would have none of it. She insisted that Luna stay there, and make Percy's old bedroom her own. Luna was grateful, extremely grateful – but after the week had passed since she was brought here, she was beginning to feel suffocated.

Mrs Weasley, as kind as she was, was completely overbearing. She seemed to be still worried about Luna, even though she assured the older woman that she was perfectly fine. As soon as she heard Luna climb out of bed on a morning, she would rush up the stairs to her side ("do you want anything to eat?", "do you want a drink?", "are you okay, dear?") to begin the day of fussing after her. Not only that, but Ginny, now that she was no longer worrying about Luna's safety, was actively planning her wedding.

Unfortunately, Ginny had become the ultimate Bridezilla. The wedding was planned to happen in less than six weeks, here at the Burrow, and Ginny was acting like a madwoman. She woke up at six in the morning every morning, and began her stressful day. Her wedding dress had been made weeks ago, but she still quibbled with it, trying it on, trying it on the mannequin, pulling bits off and reattaching them by magic. Then there were the invitations, the napkins, the chairs, and the food. The cake took up an entire day of Ginny crying in the kitchen because she had insisted to her mother that she could make the cake herself, but she had mixed up the sponge completely wrong with a bad spell. She was constantly nagging poor Harry, who had taken to leaving the Burrow throughout most days with Ron to play Quidditch, and spending the evenings well out of Ginny's way.

But Luna couldn't get away. She was beginning to get extremely frustrated with being in the Burrow, and was beginning to long for the solace and tranquility of her room back at Barty's house…

She shook the thought out of her head instantly. It hadn't been the first time she'd had a feeling like that, to do with being back with Barty. It felt crazy – all the while she was there she had longed to be free.

Most of the time, anyway.

How could she be feeling like this? The thought of missing Barty and his house humiliated her. She could never tell anyone this, not even Ginny – but she had a gut feeling that Ginny already had her suspicions. The days were getting more and more difficult, so she almost fainted with relief when Mr Weasley asked her if she'd like to come help him out at work for a few days.

"…just absolutely hectic, really mad," he was telling her over dinner one evening. "Loads of random enchanted muggle items have been cropping up, personally I think they've been floating around since before the war ended...had a babbling toilet yesterday, horrible stuff. Kept spitting back out the…well, you know," Mr Weasley looked awkwardly at the second helping of lumpy beef stew that Mrs Weasley had just dolloped on his plate.

"Oh Arthur, Luna doesn't want to hear about your babbling toilet," she snapped. Mrs Weasley was irritable – it had been a very long day with a very stressed out Ginny (who had gone to bed early instead of having dinner). "By the way Luna, would you like to help us tomorrow? Ginny and I are going to Diagon Alley to have a look in the new wedding shop. Ginny wants you to try on a bridesmaids dress."

The thought filled Luna with discomfort. She had a brief vision of Ginny and Mrs Weasley shrieking over sheets of material in pastel pinks and cream. Just as she was about to open her mouth to reply, Mr Weasley answered for her. "Sorry, dear, but Luna's already agreed to come help me out at work. Isn't that right, Luna?"

Luna nodded, smiling up at Mrs Weasley.

"Oh," Mrs Weasley looked momentarily crestfallen. "Well, maybe Ginny will pick your dress and you can just try it on when you get back here, then," she picked up Luna's empty plate, and wandered off into the kitchen.

oOo

Mr Weasley and Luna woke up early the next morning, and Luna was feeling wonderfully bright. For the first night, she'd not had the same dream that had been plaguing her since she was rescued – the one where Barty crept through her bedroom window and spoke to her in that horrible broken voice that had melted her heart. She could never remember what he was saying, but words floated through her memory. 'Mentality', 'unstable', and 'maniac' were a few.

Luna dressed smartly in some plain, pale blue robes that she had collected from home. She and Mr Weasley stepped into the fireplace together; Mr Weasley took a handful of Floo Powder and threw it heavily onto the floor of the fireplace, and shouted: "The Ministry of Magic!"

Five minutes later, they were walking briskly through the Atrium of the Ministry. Luna was struggling to keep up with Mr Weasley, who was huffing and puffing and walking with a long stride. They got to the lifts, climbed in, and very soon they were at Mr Weasley's office in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department. Luna noted, thankfully, that the babbling toilet he had spoken of wasn't there.

"Don't worry, Luna," Mr Weasley said cheerfully, noticing her gazing around. "It's just paperwork we'll be doing today – but if we split it and get it done quickly, then we might have something more interesting to do," he gave a few waves of his wand, and transfigured a particularly hefty notebook into a wooden chair and set it at the other side of his desk. She sat down, and Arthur on the other side. "It's not difficult or time consuming, really. Just a bit boring," he started, placing a small pile of pieces of parchment in front of Luna, and handing her a quill and some ink. Mr Weasley explained the task to her, and she got her head down to work. It was blissfully nice to be actually _doing _something, not needing to think, not needing to hide from Ginny and Mrs Weasley…she wasn't even thinking about Barty right now. He was miles away, probably sulking at home – nothing for her to worry about.

oOo

Barty had taken his Calming Drought early in the morning, as it was his first day back at work. Stamford had sent him an owl to say he could come in late, so luckily, he'd enjoyed a lie in. He was sincerely hoping that Stamford wouldn't want to talk about his newfound illness, and let him just get on with his work.

As he walked through the Atrium, he knew the Calming Drought was working. He felt elated and serene, like he was floating through the Atrium instead of walking. But he was still thinking about her – every now and then, he would see a flick of blonde hair, the occasional female voice that had an air of dreaminess, like she did.

He had gone straight to the Administrative Department, greeted Stamford, and thrown his coat on the hanger. Stamford had a whole new pile of forms for him to organize – this time the records of the births of every witch or wizard in Britain for the last five centuries. It was a humongous pile – but Barty didn't even feel a shred of anger. Why had he not thought about using this potion before? Why had the words "calming drought" never sprung to mind when he was thinking of ways to keep in his impulses and reactive emotions? He was quite sure he'd never felt as content in his life – especially doing this pile of horrible work, which he knew would normally make him furious if he wasn't medicated with the potion.

At one in the afternoon, Stamford asked him if he'd eaten yet. When Barty replied that he hadn't, Stamford insisted that Barty go take an hour's lunch, so he did so, leaving the massive pile of records behind to continue with when he got back. He headed down to the _Ministry Munchies _café, and bought himself a sandwich and a cup of pumpkin juice, he took a small table at the back to eat. People often stared at him – him being who he was – so he usually felt a lot more comfortable sitting as far away from the other Ministry employees as he could.

The first sign of his potion wearing off was the flutter of irritation in his stomach when he'd finished his sandwich, and noticed that a couple of short, squat witches in front of him were whispering and looking back at him, their eyes wide. He put up with it for at least ten minutes, but then the feeling in his gut felt uncontrollable. He stood up quickly, throwing his chair out behind him, and opened his mouth to yell an obscenity at the two witches, but suddenly, something stopped him.

A witch in periwinkle blue robes that trailed on the floor was stood in the queue for the counter. The robes were gathered at the waist with a bow that was fastened at her back, and she had blonde hair that was twisted up on top of her head, leaving long tendrils curling down around her neck. There was a funny pair of earrings dangling from her lobes; they look strangely like radishes…

Barty left his untouched pumpkin juice and walked towards her, not daring to blink in case he was hallucinating. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, and she spun around so fast that the skirts of her robes swirled around her. Her huge, silver eyes softened at the sight of him, and her brow wrinkled.

"Barty…?" she whispered.

Barty looked around him twice, but he couldn't see any of the red-haired family members. When he looked back down at Luna, she was doing the same scanning process. "Let's go and talk somewhere," he muttered, and started walking towards the back of the Atrium, where the visitor's entrance was. They jumped into the telephone box, which soared high into the ceiling, and then came out onto a muggle street. As soon as they were outside, Barty grabbed her elbow and dragged her into a deserted alleyway, and pushed her against the wall, trapping her there with both of his arms.

"Barty," Luna repeated. She was slightly breathless after practically running through the Ministry. "Please don't be angry. It wasn't my—"

"—I'm not mad with you," Barty replied swiftly. "I'm angry with your heroic rescuers."

"Please," Luna looked him directly in the eye. "Please don't hurt them."

There was that wicked glint in Barty's eyes again. "I can't promise that, Luna. They took you away from me," he hissed.

"I know. I know. Honestly, I didn't know they were going to do that…but they were worried about me…because I didn't write back…"

"Why didn't you come straight back?"

Luna sighed. "Barty, I know we were both becoming…confused…" she started, unsure how to continue. "We needed the space. I needed my wand back!"

Barty noticed the way she hesitated before giving him her excuse, and the way her cheeks tinged slightly and her eyes averted. "You still think about me." She looked up at him silently. He leaned closer; breathing in the smell of her…something else he didn't realize he had missed. "I can take you by force if I have to."

"They'll just come for me again," she whispered, her voice sounding wobbly, but her eyes were focused on his lips.

"I'll be ready for them this time," Barty's mouth suddenly crashed into hers, and he kissed her – hard. His hands dropped to her waist and he pulled her closer to him, deepening the kiss. She murmured into his mouth, but soon she was kissing him back passionately, her arms winding around his neck and her hands running through his hair. He reached underneath her and lifted her from her feet, pressing her back into the wall. Her legs wound around his waist, and he began to feel something stirring…

She seemed to feel it too, and only kissed him harder. Her hands were on the sides of his face, holding him into the kiss, and his were roaming over the front of her body. She shuddered all over as he trailed his fingers up down her waist and across her stomach, and then pulled the neck of her robes open, the buttons popping halfway down her front. She let out a gasp of shock as his hand flattened against her right breast, over the top of her bra. Her head fell back, and he attacked her neck with his mouth, running his kisses across the expanse of skin between her shoulder blade and ear. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as he did so, and she whimpered quietly.

"Barty…lunch break…is nearly…over…" Luna whined, just as he was pulling the cup of her bra to one side. He groaned into the flesh of her neck.

"I don't care," he growled.

"You'll get into tro…ahh…" her voice tailed off as his mouth covered her breast. He reached back up and kissed her hotly, grinding his hips into hers.

"I'll send an owl and tell Stamford I became sick," he breathed. He drew back suddenly, lowering Luna to the ground, her hair was falling out of its updo, she was flushed, and trying to cover her exposed breast. "Luna, this isn't going to be like the last time. I can take you against your will, but I'd rather you wanted to. So will you come home with me?"

Luna looked up at him, her eyes quivering with fear and excitement. A barrage of images fluttered through her mind like a picture-film – Mrs Weasley and Ginny shopping for her bridesmaid's dress, Mr Weasley waiting back at the Ministry for her to return from lunch. All the worry and anxiety the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione would feel when she never came home, and the likelihood that they would go out looking for her again.

But in that moment, Luna didn't care. Her head was swimming with attraction for Barty, and something new that she'd never felt before…lust. The man in front of her was all she could think about, and all she wanted right now. So slowly, thinking completely with her heart and not her head, she nodded.

Barty smirked down at her, took her hands, and they dissapparated on the spot.

oOo


	15. Her First Time

**A.N: **Another warning! This chapter is extremely sexually explicit so don't read on if you would rather avoid that kind of thing! You have been told!

* * *

oOo

Mr Weasley feared the worst for Luna when she never came back from her lunch break, and no owl had been sent to him. He rushed straight down to the Administration Department, where he knew Barty worked after Bill and Fleur had visited the office. His heart had filled with relief when he saw that the spare desk in Stamford Jorkins' office was empty, and there was no extra coat on the hanger.

"Arthur? Long-time no see, what are you doing down here?" Stamford asked, putting down the quill he'd just been scribbling with.

"Oh, it's nothing important. Just a bit of business with Mr Crouch, but I see he's still out of office," Mr Weasley replied, giving Stamford a smile.

"Barty? Oh, he's back at work now, started today. But I received an owl from him about an hour ago, saying that he'd come down ill over his lunch break," Stamford's voice dropped in volume, so that the workers outside of his office couldn't hear him. "I didn't question why, but I think maybe he didn't have enough of his potion this morning," he was practically whispering by the end of this statement.

Mr Weasley's heart sank again. So Barty had taken sick leave over his lunch break, and Luna had vanished without a word as well? It didn't take a genius to work that one out. He rushed back up to his office so that he could write to his wife.

oOo

Barty and Luna had apparated into the middle of the living room of the Crouch Manor, and Barty had then proceeded to pick her up again, so that her legs were wrapped around his middle and her arms around his neck, and carried her all the way upstairs.

He pressed her up against the window when they entered Luna's room, and he kissed her intensely. She was warm, pliable; she kissed back and wound herself around him. He carried her across to the bed and laid her down. He leant over her, and she gazed up at him, breathing heavily. In a slow, fluid motion, he unbuttoned every remaining button on her robes, and then pulled the material down, until it was completely removed from her person. Leaving her laid there in her girlish, white underwear. Barty dropped the robes at the foot of the bed, and scanned her body greedily while he undressed himself. She sat up and helped him, pushing his coat over his shoulders. When he was undressed, she backed up away from him and clambered under the covers, and he followed her.

There was something much more electric now that they were both almost naked. They lay under the covers, side by side, and spent the next ten minutes kissing each other slowly. Barty had one hand under Luna's head, clutching her face, and the fingers of his other hand were roaming across her side, tickling her from her ribs to her hipbone. Their bodies were pressed together tightly, and eventually Barty rolled over so that he was on top of her.

She felt slightly intimidated by Barty's hungry brown eyes that were staring down at her, but it was far too late to back out now. He laid kisses all over her body, starting from her throat. His tongue was warm and soft and the feeling of it against the sensitive parts of her neck sent jolts of pleasure right down to her groin. As his kisses went lower, between her breasts, across her stomach, her hips, she had to clench the sheets in her fists. He pushed his thumbs under the material of her underwear, pulled the flimsy white fabric down slowly, and deposited them on the floor with the rest of their clothes. Automatically, Luna felt herself trying to cross her legs to protect her modesty, but Barty held them open by her thighs. She stared up at the ceiling, raw embarrassment crawling over her face. She had never had a boyfriend or been with a man romantically, let alone have him so close to her…down there.

Slowly, Barty leaned forward and pressed his tongue to the top of her womanhood, and dragged it down. Luna let out a loud, audible gasp, and she reached out and balled her fists in his hair. He started a slow, sensual ministration with his tongue, his hands clamped tightly on her thighs to keep her legs apart. Her back arched, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she was whimpering loudly, keeping her hands on the back of his head to hold him firmly in place. She had never felt anything as amazing in her life; she almost couldn't believe that _this _man could make her feel so good.

He pulled his mouth away, and Luna heard him licking his lips. "Luna," he murmured, looking up at her. Luna looked back down at him, letting her hands fall on her chest.

"Y…yes?" she breathed, trying to catch her breath.

"You've never been with another man before, have you?" he paused. "You've never…had sex." Luna shook her head and bit her lip, and he crawled back up her body and hovered over her, leaning on one arm and looking down at her.

"Will it hurt?" she asked quietly. It was something she had never discussed with people – sex and puberty and reproductive systems were all things she had to learn later in life, as her father struggled to tell her things like this, being a single father. She was sure Ginny had done it with Harry, but it was never something they discussed. So her experience and knowledge in this field was limited, but she knew that even though there was an anxiety of the pain, and what it would be like, there was something else inside her that desperately wanted to be _that _close to him.

"Not the way I do it," he replied softly, and a slow smirk spread across his face. "Just relax."

She did what he said, and breathed out slowly. She hadn't even realised she'd been holding her breath. Barty leaned down and kissed her on the mouth again, and at the same time, she felt his fingers on her most intimate area.

He looked down at her as he began a fast paced movement over her clitoris, and she coiled her hips into his touch. She started panting and moaning almost straight away, and Barty felt his arousal growing at the sight of her thrashing around beneath him, and the feel of her under his fingers…

When he could no longer bear the sexual tension that was building, he turned onto his back and pulled Luna on top of him, so that she was straddling his waist. She looked down at him, feeling his arousal between her legs. "This way will be easier for you," Barty was saying in a strange voice that she didn't recognise. It was like he was being strangled, but Luna noticed when she looked down at him that he was gazing up and down at her body, his breathing fast and erratic. She felt a brief surge of confidence – did he really find her that attractive? He reached up and put his hands on her face, and then pulled her hair out of its updo, letting her locks tumble down around her breasts and shoulders. "Why did I not undress you sooner?" he asked her in a heavy voice.

Luna leant across his body so she was lying on top of him, and she pressed her mouth to his. He bit her lip gently, and then she felt him pushing his hips into hers, grinding his hardness into her. There was excitement pooling in her lower belly; she was terrified of what this was going to feel like, but so desperate for it. Barty's eyes met hers; they looked as wild and crazy as they did that day when he had thrown all the plates around the kitchen – but she wasn't afraid of him anymore. "I can't wait anymore," he muttered. He reached between her legs, grabbing his member, and positioned it at her entrance. She could feel it throbbing down there, and very hesitantly, she started to lower herself onto him slowly.

It was a painful, stretching feeling that hit her. She almost wanted to jump off him quickly, and run to the toilet to splash some water on her sore areas – but the look on Barty's face spurred her to carry on. As soon as she had started to sheath him, his eyes rolled and his head lolled back, his mouth opening to form a silent 'o'. He wanted to grab her hips and push her down onto him, but he kept his hands balled in the bedding. With the confidence gained from the reaction she was gaging from Barty, she dropped herself completely onto him.

They both made different noises. Luna's was a gasp of pain – this was a new feeling she'd never experienced before, a foreign object inside her. There had been a jolt of pain, like something stabbing her in her lower stomach, but it passed quicker than she expected. Barty, on the other hand, could no longer keep his hands by his sides, and had grabbed her by the waist, and a long, throaty groan had escaped his lips. They held still for a while, both of them breathing heavily, then Barty finally managed to regain eye contact. "How do you feel?" he asked her.

Luna rocked tentatively, and felt a mixture of things. It still hurt, but very slightly, and she was beginning to adjust to the feeling of him now. So she didn't answer, just continued to rock as she had just done, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

Barty's fingers gripped into her hips as he moved her faster, and strangely, she did start to feel something new and unusual. He sat up, keeping her legs around his waist so that they were both upright, and kissed her. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back, whimpering into his mouth as his hands roamed across her backside, grinding her hips into his. "How…do you feel?" Barty asked again, panting burying his face in her neck.

Luna threw her head back as he sucked on the sensitive spot on her neck. "Amazing…" she whined. In the next moment, Barty had flipped her onto her back and pulled her legs up over his shoulders. She screamed with pleasure as he began to pound mercilessly into her. She could feel everything now, every inch of him as he thrust into her again and again. It didn't hurt anymore, not even a little bit, it just felt so good, all she could think of was Barty, and Barty giving her this pleasure. She started to feel a build-up, like something amazing was around the corner…

At the last minute, Barty ground his pelvis into hers, and the feeling overwhelmed her. It was as though something in her lower stomach had exploded, and the sensation spread all over her body. She moaned out loud, shouting his name, and as soon as the word had left her lips, Barty froze, shuddered, and collapsed on top of her.

They lay like that for a while, gasping for breath and recovering from the aftermath of their orgasms. Barty fell to the side of her, and lay on his back, with his arm over his face. Luna rolled onto her side, and looked over at him.

She couldn't believe what they had just done. Luna always imagined she would lose her virginity to the man she would eventually marry – not with the crazy ex Death Eater, who was twice her age, and who, only a few weeks ago, had been released from Azkaban and forced her to stay with him, wandless, in his house. If it wasn't for the slight throbbing pain between her legs, she would be sure that this hadn't actually just happened.

Barty seemed to be thinking the same thing, though she didn't ask him. He was staring at the ceiling, still catching his breath. When he noticed Luna staring at him, he held his arm out to her, and she crawled over to him, resting her head on his chest.

"What did we just do?" she whispered.

"Fucked," Barty replied bluntly. There seemed to be a strange and sudden edge to his voice, and Luna was reminded of the man who had slapped her around the face, an event that seemed like so long ago.

Her ear was pressed to his chest, and she could hear his heartbeat thudding. "Barty?"

"Yeah?"

"The Weasley's told me that they stunned you…outside a healing clinic?"

A long silence followed this. She felt Barty tense up, and he pushed her away from him suddenly, and sat up straight. "What of it?"

Luna sat up too, clutching the sheets around her. "Well…I was just wondering…"

Barty jumped out of bed and pulled his trousers back on, glaring at Luna. "Why were you wondering? You were fine and safe and comfortable with…with _them_," he hissed, and grabbed onto the wooden pole of the four poster bed.

"Barty," Luna's eyes had widened considerably as she tried to make sense of his sudden change in mood. What had she done?

"Haven't you heard?" he spat, and reached over into the bed, grabbing Luna's arm. He yanked her out of bed, and she almost fell onto the floor in the haste to try and keep the sheet wrapped around her. "I'm fucking crazy! Not even just normal-crazy, Luna! _Textbook _crazy! With medicine and potions and _shit_!"

"Please calm down," Luna tried to raise her voice over his, but she was afraid again. "What am I meant to do Barty? I don't know how to help you!" It was the first time she had raised her voice back to him, but she was so taken aback. They had just been having a wonderful time; she had been revelling in thinking about how odd and strange it was, but she had enjoyed every minute. Why was he suddenly behaving like this?

Barty seemed to be having the same thought. His mouth was hanging open, like he had just been about to retaliate, but he was frozen. His grip loosened on Luna's wrist, and he blinked several times, as if he was only just seeing. "Calming…calming…"

Luna pulled him down onto the bed so that he was sat down, and he kept his grip on the wooden post. "What? Barty, what?"

"Downstairs," he was clutching his chest now, for some reason. "Cauldron…"

"Are you okay?" Luna put her hand on his shoulder. He looked as though he was having some kind of attack.

"Luna!"

Luna dropped the sheet, no longer caring that she was completely naked, and ran downstairs. In the kitchen, she noticed a black cauldron in the middle of the kitchen, half full with a shimmering, sea-blue potion. There was a cup on the table, and a ladle next to it. She grabbed the ladle and spooned a measurement of the potion into the cup, and ran back up the stairs with it.

Barty was bent double in his sitting position, with his head between his knees. His breathing was fast and rapid, and he was shaking everywhere. He was having a panic attack.

Luna pulled his head back, placed the cup to his lips and tipped the potion into his mouth. The effect was instantaneous from the moment the liquid touched his throat. He calmed down straight away, his breathing slowed down, the shaking stopped, and after a minute, he flattened out on his back with his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry, Luna," he said, so quietly she almost didn't hear him.

"Barty," she started, not knowing what to say. "What just happened? What's wrong with you? Why do you suddenly have to take a potion? Why did you…" Luna paused. "Why were you so angry with me, right after we…"

"I was worried," he muttered. "What happened between us was so spontaneous, and so…amazing…that I don't want you to leave me again."

"But why did you react like that?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Are you really…unwell?" she looked away when she said that, afraid he might have another outburst, but he seemed to be completely relaxed.

"Apparently," he drawled. "But I can get better if I keep taking the potion…" his voice tailed off, and for a minute Luna thought he had fallen asleep, but then he started to ramble on in a drowsy voice. "I don't need the potion, though. I just need to know how I feel. I need to know where I stand, with you. Because the good doctor says that I'm…what was it…_unfixable_, yes. That was the word he used. But I'm fixed with you. But you left me…and…" Barty gave a soft snore, and suddenly he was asleep.

Even though Luna felt somewhat confused, what Barty had just said did seem to make some sense in her mind. There was something wrong with him – something deep-rooted, that she didn't understand. But he had some kind of attachment to her, she could see that now. Luna couldn't help but wonder what might happen if she were to leave him again.

After their episode of passion, she didn't think she would ever want to leave him again. No one had ever made Luna feel like that before. As she lay down on the bed next to Barty, preparing to go to sleep, she thought about what he had said. Could he really be fixed if she was around? Was he really as attracted to her as he seemed to be?

If she stayed with him, what else would she have to deal with? There were hundreds of questions floating around her head, hundreds of worries and fears, but for now, she just wanted to stay with Barty – Barty, who was so broken, and who needed her help more than anything.

oOo


	16. Couldn't Take Their Eyes Off Each Other

oOo

Once again, Ginny's wedding plans had been postponed because she was panicking about Luna. The only difference this time was that they already knew where to go, because they'd been to retrieve her once already.

It was common knowledge around the Ministry that Barty had requested another week off. When Mr Weasley went down to speak to Stamford about it, he told Mr Weasley that Barty had sent an owl writing about a panic attack he had suffered from, and had visited St Mungos shortly after. Stamford had received an owl from the hospital too, to say that Barty had been for an appointment and was being granted with sick leave.

After hearing this from her father, Ginny was sitting with Harry, Ron and Hermione, once again demanding that they all think of a plan to rescue Luna.

"Ginny…" Hermione started, looking sheepish. "What if Luna has gone by herself? What if she wants to be with him?"

"Why the hell would she want that, Hermione?" Harry shouted, looking aghast.

"Ginny was the one who said Luna was always acting awkward whenever the subject of Barty Crouch Junior came up! She was completely not herself when she was around here – always hiding in her room and avoiding people, and looking distant—"

"—more distant than usual?" interjected Ron.

"You know what I mean," snapped Hermione.

"She's not in _love _with him—" Ginny started.

"—No one said anything about _love_—"

"—Will you all just be quiet!" shrieked Mrs Weasley suddenly, clutching at her temples. "We will think of something. But before you all burst into his house again risking your lives I suggest you try and write Luna a letter!" and with that final note, Mrs Weasley stormed out of the kitchen, presumably to try and cure her headache with a healing spell.

"I'm not going to write a letter," Ginny muttered under her breath. "If it's like it was last time, then she won't even be able to get a letter. So it'll be pointless."

"Well, what do you want to do?" Ron asked.

"I suggest we do exactly what your mum says not to do," Harry replied. "Just burst straight in. We know his address now – if we all go, it's four against one. I know he used to be a Death Eater, but come on – we wiped out _Voldemort_."

"You're right, mate," Ron responded, nodding at Harry. He looked over at Hermione and Ginny.

"I agree," Ginny said, and joined the two boys in looking at Hermione.

"Oh, alright," she grumbled. "But when are we going to do it? We should sort things out, and make sure we have a plan—"

"—How about right now?" Harry finished for her. "There's no time like the present. If we wait, we're giving Mrs Weasley time to stop us, and he might go back to work by the time we go. Who's to say he hasn't or won't disconnect his fireplace from the Floo network?"

Ron and Ginny stood up, and so did Hermione – but hesitantly. "Fine. Let's go."

The four of them crept into the fireplace, trying to stay as quiet as possible so that Mrs Weasley wouldn't hear them. In a low voice, Harry said the lines of Barty Crouch's address, and the four of them vanished in a burst of green flames. Right before they were sucked away, Ginny noticed her mother flying into the living room, shouting something inaudible.

oOo

Within minutes, they stopped in the familiar living room of the Crouch Manor. One by one, they stepped out of the fireplace and into the room quietly, all four of them brandishing their wands. Harry and Ginny took the lead, and Ron and Hermione in the back.

"Where do you think we should check first?" whispered Ginny to her boyfriend, scanning her eyes around the living room nervously. As she spoke, a sudden, girlish giggle came from the kitchen, making them all freeze on the spot.

"Over there," Harry pointed in the direction of the kitchen, and they crept towards the open door, standing behind it. "On the count of three," he breathed. "We jump in and all stupefy him. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Hermione, Ron and Ginny chorused silently.

"One…" Harry raised his wand, and they all copied. "Two…THREE!"

They all burst around the door, pointing their wands at the people in the kitchen. But they all immediately lowered their wands, shock registering on their faces. Ginny was the first to step forward, looking completely mystified. "Luna…?" She questioned in a low voice, staring at her friend.

Luna was sat on the kitchen countertop, wearing her knickers and a t-shirt that looked like it belonged to a man. Barty was stood between her legs, wearing only a pair of trousers, his hands on her upper thighs, and she had her arms wrapped around him. Barty had gripped her tighter the moment that the four of her friends had jumped into his kitchen, and she was pressed against his chest. He glared over at them, angrily, and removed one hand from Luna to fish his wand out of his pocket and aim it at them.

Ginny, however, wasn't looking at Barty. She was still staring at Luna, who was gazing back, looking as though she had been stunned. "Luna, what are you _doing_? What has he done to you?!"

"He hasn't done anything," Luna answered in a small voice.

Ginny tried to step closer, but Barty held his wand out threateningly. "Stay where you are," he hissed, his maniacal eyes flickering between the four of them. "What are you doing here?"

"We've come to take Luna home!" Hermione shouted in a shrill voice. "So let her down and we'll be gone."

"This is Luna's home now," he answered. "She stays."

"Stop answering for her!" Ginny shrieked, suddenly holding an air of her mother. "She's her own person! Luna!"

Luna hung her head forward, so that her tresses of blonde hair hung in her face. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

"How long?" Ginny asked. "How long has this been going on for?"

"None of your business," snapped Barty. "Get out of my house!" Ginny noticed Barty's wand hand was beginning to shake, and his face was swelling with anger. Luna seemed to notice this too, as she suddenly took Barty's face in her hands and leaned forward, whispering something in his ear. Ginny's eyes widened even more, watching as whatever Luna whispered to him seemed to calm him, as his face relaxed and his wand arm dropped. Luna waved her wand – which everyone noticed that she was apparently allowed to keep – over in the direction of the cauldron, and the ladle rose out of it, poured a blue-green liquid into a nearby cup, and the cup soared over to Luna's outstretched hand. She passed it to Barty, and he downed it in one. Almost immediately, he seemed like a different person. His eyes softened, his face completely melted. He raised his wand again, but he looked as though he was in control.

"Do you see why I need to be here, Ginny?" Luna asked her friend quietly, her hands still on Barty's shoulders. "It doesn't make sense. I _know _it doesn't make sense. I can't even understand it…but I want to stay here."

Ginny shook her head. "Are you saying you're _in love _with him or something? Do you remember who this person is?"

"I'm not that person anymore," Barty said, in a smooth, calm voice.

"He's getting better. That's why he's having the potion," spoke Luna.

"Why are you defending him?" asked Harry suddenly. "Stop being so ridiculous, Luna. We all know that you've always been a little…eccentric…but this is just…he's twice your age!"

"I don't care," Luna replied. "I'm sorry. I'm staying here."

Ginny gave a sudden scream of mirth and flourished her wand, aiming her Bat-Bogey Hex at Barty.

"_Protego!" _Luna yelled, jumping down from the counter and shooting a shield charm between them. The hex bounced off the shield, and exploded in the air. "Ginny!"

"Luna, is this what you really want?" Hermione questioned, sadly. Luna nodded, and looked away from them all. "Well, we'll be here for you. If something happens. Or you decide to leave."

"She won't leave," Barty flashed Hermione a teeth-bearing grin.

"I won't leave," Luna repeated, and she looked up at Barty. Ginny turned on her heel and flounced away, struggling to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes. The four of them all jumped back into fireplace, and took the Floo Network straight back to the Burrow.

oOo

Mrs Weasley was shouting about risking lives and causing unnecessary worry when they arrived, but Ginny ignored her mother completely, choosing to charge up stairs to her bedroom. Harry followed her, leaving Hermione and Ron to face Mrs Weasley's wrath. When he arrived in Ginny's bedroom, she had thrown herself dramatically onto the bed, sobbing into her pillow.

"Ginny…" muttered Harry, sitting on the bed beside her and rubbing her back. "She's made up her mind. You need to let her go."

"She's making the wrong decision," Ginny cried, her voice thick. "She's my best friend Harry; I care about her so much! You can see how strange she's been acting – even just then at his house, she's obviously terrified—"

"—I don't think she was, Gin," Harry said quietly. "I really don't."

"Do you really think she wants to be there?"

"I don't know, Ginny. But I think we should leave her alone. As much as I want to get her out of there too, she didn't want to come. And I know you saw it, too."

"Saw what?" Ginny asked.

"The way they looked at each other. They weren't thinking about anyone or anything else, you could just tell," Harry paused. "They just couldn't take their eyes off each other."

oOo


	17. Rolf Scamander

oOo

The week of Barty's extra week of sick leave was unfortunately over. All he and Luna had done for the days they had been back together was lie in bed – only moving to get Barty his potion, or getting food. They seemed to be suffering from a 'honeymoon period'. The two of them were naked, or almost naked, nearly one hundred percent of the time, and they spent this time either sleeping, eating, or having sex. They showered together and slept together. It seemed that they couldn't really get enough of each other.

The strange thing was, neither of them could understand what the force was that was attracting them to each other. But, the stranger thing was, neither of them really seemed to care anymore. Luna often wondered if Barty had spiked her coffee with a strong love potion – but sometimes, when she was watching him thinking, she was sure he was thinking the very same thing. They had just about given up trying to explain what the attraction was. It didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was how happy, elated and content the two of them seemed to feel lately.

Of course, Barty's mood was managed greatly by the potion he had to take. There were still some instances and episodes where he'd maybe not taken enough of the calming drought, or not taken it at the right time, and Luna would have to calm him down. But she was better at it now. She felt like now there was some kind of explanation for his behavior, she could deal with it. It was manageable, even though it was hard sometimes – but she was no longer afraid of him.

As Barty lay beside the younger girl, stroking her hair with his fingers, he could no longer deny that he was beginning to have strong and unnatural feelings for Luna. It wasn't just an attraction anymore. The feelings were getting stronger and stronger with each passing day. Feelings he didn't realise he was capable of having. He was dreading the thought of having to go back to work today – part of him wanted to take her wand again, lock her in the house, and start behaving coldly towards her. If he did that, it was likely she would grow afraid of him again, and she wouldn't dare to run away from him. But the new, more rational part of him that was growing slightly with each passing day wanted to bless her with her freedom – carry on having this enjoyable time with Luna, enjoyable because she was _happy__._

Her eyes were closed, but a small smile graced her features, and his hand cupped around her cheek. He desperately wanted her to stay happy, like this. A sudden vision passed over his mind – her reaction when she had shrunk away from him when he slapped her – something that seemed like so long ago. The way she had stared up at him with round eyes, glazed over with pure hatred. There was a clenching feeling in his stomach suddenly. He never wanted to see her looking like that again, ever. He knew that much. In one quick movement, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, where she rubbed her face into his skin. He remembered how confused he'd felt before – confused about how he felt, afraid of his feelings. But now – maybe since taking the calming drought regularly, he could see clearly. He knew how he felt about Luna, and he no longer cared how he perceived his feelings and emotions anymore.

Luna stifled a yawn into his chest, and broke away from him slowly, stretching out her limbs. Barty sat up slowly, glaring at the clock on the wall that read seven 'o' clock. Luna blinked sleepily up at him. "You have to go to work today, right?" Barty nodded, looking back down at her. "Barty, I wanted to talk to you about something."

A sudden lance of fear and anger rippled through him. He sat up straight, and then climbed out of bed, leaving her strewn across the mattress. He dressed quickly into his work robes, and spoke without looking at her. "Over breakfast," he said quietly. There was a sudden worry rearing inside him, that there was the possibility that he could react negatively to whatever Luna wanted to talk to him about, and he needed to make sure he had his morning dose of calming drought inside him before she started speaking. "I'll meet you in the kitchen," and with that last note, Barty dashed out of the bedroom and headed downstairs. As soon as he reached the kitchen, his first task was to pour an extra-large measurement of his calming drought into a large glass, and downed it in one fluid motion. As usual, the effect was instant. The uncomfortable knot of stress that had been tightening in his stomach since Luna had spoken, immediately released, and was replaced with a cool, glowing feeling. He closed his eyes momentarily and leaned back against the counter, exhaling a blissful sigh.

After a few minutes, he pulled his wand out of his pocket and started to flick it at random points around the kitchen. Eggs and milk flew out of the refrigerator, and flour and sugar soared from the open door of the pantry. He set the cauldron that they normally used for cooking to light, and a pan lowered from a higher shelf and hovered above the boiling water of the cauldron. The cooking materials began to whisk together in a wooden bowl, and once they had been stirred into a (somewhat lumpy) mixture, the bowl tipped up and poured a generous amount into the pan. The smell of pancakes soon filled the kitchen, and they began to cook slowly.

Luna wandered down the stairs a few moments later, fully dressed, with her hair fastened on top of her head messily. There was strange headband that was clearly handmade decorating her head; it looked like it was garnished with mistletoe. Barty noticed, with a satisfied smirk, that she was wearing the same periwinkle blue robes she had been wearing the day he found her at the ministry. The same robes he had undressed her out of for the first time. As she sat down and began to pour coffee, Barty walked towards her, the pan that had previously been over the cauldron floating behind him.

He slid a charred, blackened pancake onto her plate, and they both looked at each other silently, for a few minutes. Just as Luna was about to pick up her fork and take a bite politely, Barty pushed her hand back down and waved his wand. The burnt pancake vanished into thin air. "I've never been good at cooking," he muttered. "Winky used to do things like that, before."

Luna smiled at him brightly. "It's okay, I'm not hungry just yet anyway," she assured him. "I just want to talk to you before you go to work, please"

Barty sat down next to her, and nodded. "Go ahead."

She took a breath and cleared her throat. "I can't go back to sitting in this house all day again. I'm not saying I want to leave, but I don't want to be confined to this house again. My father, he left to go travelling – so I was thinking that I could go back and work on _The Quibbler_. I don't have a job, or anything else to do."

"The…what?" Barty raised an eyebrow.

"_The Quibbler._ It's a magazine my father edits and publishes. I can be the editor for _The Quibbler _as a job, and I'll come back to you."

"Can't you get a job at the Ministry like everybody else?"

"There's nothing at the Ministry for me. I've always wanted to work at _The Quibbler_ with my father," Luna paused. "I will come back, Barty."

Barty stood up from his seat suddenly, his chair scraping on the tiled floor loudly. "Don't lie to me, Luna," he said in a calm, quiet voice. "Don't tell me stuff like this if you're not going to mean it."

Luna stood up and placed both her hands on his face, staring up at him. "I know how you're feeling. I know you don't want me to go because you think I'll run away. But I promise you, I _promise _I will come back every day, long before you get home. I promise," she looked directly into his eyes, her hands flat on his stubbly cheeks. "Please trust me. I could have left you before, when my friends came, but I didn't. I stayed with you…I still don't know why – but I did. So please trust me." Barty leaned down and kissed her suddenly, placing his hands on her waist. He pulled away shortly after, and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Think about what you're doing and saying," his brown eyes burned into hers with a familiar menace she hadn't seen for a few weeks. "Because if you don't come home, I will tear every man, woman, and Weasley apart until I get you back. Are you listening to me, Luna?"

Luna nodded, and swallowed. "I promise."

"Then you can go. Go to your house and write your little magazine."

Luna breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you." She pulled away from him and walked into the living room, with Barty following her. He stepped into the fireplace, and she positioned herself in the middle of the room. They both bade each other goodbye, and then vanished – Barty in a puff of green Floo powder smoke, and Luna by turning on the spot.

oOo

Luna arrived in front of her childhood home moments later, and there was a cool breeze blowing in the air. She beamed up at the house. Today was going marvellously so far, and it was surely only going to get better. She had secured herself a job, and she would be doing something she knew she would enjoy – writing in _The Quibbler _as he father had always hoped she would do. With another wide smile, she headed up the front steps of her house, and unlocked the door, walking inside.

The sight that greeted her was a huge stack of letters on the table by the window, which had spilled onto the floor. The letters had arrived recently – Luna had been here only just over a week ago, and she didn't notice a single letter then. She kicked off her shoes and walked over to the desk, picking up a few of the letters. After opening and reading a few, she soon worked out the situation.

The letters were all from avid _Quibbler _readers; angry and disappointed readers. There had been no recent updates, and they were starting to get frustrated. The last letter Luna had read was from one of her father's friends, saying that he was sending over his son to enter the house and compile together an edition of _The Quibbler_, acting as temporary editor until Xenophilius returned.

There was a date enlisted with the letter, which the self-appointed temporary editor would be arriving. The date was today – the temporary editor would be arriving today. Just at that moment, there was a knock on the door. Luna put the letters back on the desk, and pulled the door open.

On the step stood a lanky looking boy, with half lidded eyes and dark blonde hair that was a little too long and hung in his eyes. She noticed when he looked at her, that his eyes were a similar shade of grey as hers. "Can I help you?" she asked, blinking at him questioningly.

"Hi. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in. Luna, right?"

Luna raised her eyebrows. Now that he had spoken, she recognized him vaguely. He had gone to Hogwarts too. "I'm sorry; I don't remember your name."

The boy smiled lazily and stuck out his hand. "I went to Hogwarts, too. I remember you – you do stick in one's mind. My name is Rolf – Rolf Scamander. May I come in?" He shook Luna's hand. "I don't know if you got my father's letter, but I've been appointed as the temporary editor until Xeno gets back from his trips, or wherever he's been."

"Come in," Luna greeted politely, and stepped back to let Rolf into her house.

Little did she know, she was also letting him straight into her life.


	18. The Quibbler

**A.N****: **Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! Please keep doing so. Got a nice little chunk of chapters for you now! Enjoy.

* * *

oOo

Luna handed Rolf a cup of tea, and sat down opposite him in the living room. She decided to tell him outright, rather than dragging it on. "I'm sorry, Rolf, but you don't need to work here, seeing as I am."

"Couldn't you use some help?" Rolf smiled at her hopefully.

"Daddy never needed any help."

"I've had experience in writing before," he said brightly. "I wrote several essays for the Daily Prophet on my grandfather's book, I'm sure you've heard of Newt Scamander. He wrote _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_."

"Yes, I know he wrote that book. I'm sure you're a fantastic write, Rolf, but I really won't need any help," and he would be putting himself in unnecessary danger, Luna added as an afterthought. She didn't need to ask Barty to know that he wouldn't be impressed with Rolf working with her. Rolf sighed, and gulped down a portion of his tea, and then rested his head in his hands, looking extremely depressed and rejected. A sudden flash of pity rippled across Luna's heartstrings. "I'm sorry, Rolf."

"It doesn't matter. Whatever...I mean, it is technically _your _magazine isn't it; I can't just bustle in here. Even though you and your father did neglect _The Quibbler _for _weeks_, not providing a single update and leaving all your readers in _suspense _for so long…"

Luna raised her eyebrow at him. He was acting just a tad over-dramatic. "Rolf, why do you want to work for _The Quibbler _so bad?"

Rolf looked away, his cheeks turning red, and took a few moments to contemplate his answer. Finally, after another long swig of his tea, he spoke. "Okay. I'm desperate for work – no one will hire me! I presume you didn't hear, but I did terribly in my O. , I hardly got any good marks. No one will give me a job, not even the really lowly offices at the Ministry," he paused, and added bitterly; "though I hear they gave _Barty Crouch Junior_ a job in the Administration Department."

"Well, Barty did get twelve O. ," Luna replied.

Rolf's eyes widened at her defence of him, but he decided not to pursue it. "Please, Luna. Help an old schoolmate out."

Luna stared at him for a while, contemplating what to do. She knew Barty wouldn't like this – but he was changing now, so maybe he could deal with it in the long run. It wasn't like she was attracted to Rolf, and she was sure that Rolf didn't feel that way about her. Rolf _was _an old schoolmate, even if she couldn't remember him too well. "Okay. You can help me out – but just until I get everything sorted out and into a simple routine – like I said, Daddy didn't need any constant help, so I'm sure that I won't."

Rolf nodded. "Thanks a lot, Luna. So, can I start right away?"

Luna nodded, and beckoned for him to follow her. She led him to a large room at the back of the house, which was half underground. This was the room that Xenophilius used as both a printing room and his office. In a few wand movements, Luna managed to magically stretch out the desk and add another chair, so there was room enough for two. When she had completed this task, she noticed that her father had left a lot of untidy notes strewn across the desks. "Well, looks like we have to sort through all of this before we start to write anything new."

Rolf took his seat, and they started to sift through Xenophilius' messy paperwork quietly.

oOo

The hours wore on, and they were working silently. Luna had become occupied with her work, and had managed to find several detailed notes that would make excellent articles in _The Quibbler_. The only thing that was distracting her was noticing that Rolf was looking at her, out of the corner of her eye, every now and then.

"So…" he started. Luna looked at him questioningly. "…you jumped to defend that Barty guy pretty quickly, earlier."

"Did I?" Luna responded in a dreamy voice. She had been thinking about a particular article she knew her father was planning, about the myths of day-walking vampires, and was wondering if she could contact her father to get some more information on that subject.

"Yes, you told me that Barty had twelve O. ."

"Well, it's true." Luna picked up her quill and continued making some notations on a long piece of parchment, covered in tiny, squashed together writing.

"How do you even know that?" Rolf was leaning back in her chair, looking at her. "I mean, you do know there are rumours, don't you?"

"What rumours?" she asked indifferently, though she already had an idea.

"The rumour that you are now _living _with that maniac; and you're in a relationship with him."

Luna dropped her quill instantly and stared at him with wide, glittering eyes. "Who on earth told you that?"

Rolf shrugged. "Something my dad heard while he was on business at the Ministry. Is it true?"

Luna chewed her top lip carefully. She wasn't sure what Barty wanted to do about people knowing of their status – and she wasn't even sure if they _were _in a relationship. Nothing had really been made official as of yet. If Barty didn't want people to know about it, then she shouldn't really tell Rolf right now, as the information was likely to leak. "No. Of course not, that's ridiculous." Rolf smiled, looking relieved, and Luna got back to her work, making a mental note to discuss this with Barty at some point. After a few minutes of silent work, she suddenly became aware of how fast the time was going, and stood up.

"Are you leaving?" Rolf asked her.

"Yeah, I should get back."

"But this is your home?"

Luna paused. "Yes. But I don't live here anymore. I have my own place now," she averted his eyes and changed the subject swiftly. If Rolf was going to work with her, he would need his own key – especially as she would probably be leaving early every day. She ran up to her bedroom, digging out her spare key, and duplicated it magically. She returned to the printing room, and passed it to him, and explained her reasons to him. "…I'll usually want to get off by four, maybe half-three," she told him. "Please don't lose that key, and don't let others in here. I don't live here, but it's still my father's house."

Rolf nodded, and Luna bade goodbye to him. Just as she was about to leave, he called out to her. "Luna, wait!"

Luna turned around and looked at him. "Yes?"

"Seeing as the rumour isn't true, do you fancy going out for a drink sometime?"

Luna stared at him blandly for a while, and shook her head. "No, Rolf. That would be quite unprofessional." She waggled her fingers at him briefly, and wandered into the living room to where the fireplace was situated.

oOo

After using the Floo Network to return home, she wandered into the kitchen, pulling her hair out of its topknot and shaking her head. There was half an hour before Barty would arrive, so there was enough time for her to be alone with her thoughts. She thought briefly about telling Barty about Rolf, and decided to put it off, for now. She didn't want him to stop her from having a job before she'd even properly started – that, or Barty could completely freak out and try to kill him.

So, Luna made the (probably unwise) decision to not tell Barty, just yet. She promised herself that she would do – but she didn't want to stress him out the moment he came home from his first day back at work. So she pushed the thought to the back of her mind, and focused on what she could prepare for dinner.

The habit of cooking manually had become hard to break, and when she finally heard Barty arriving home in the fireplace, she was stirring a pot of stew with a ladle, instead of using magic. Strangely, she found cooking by hand quite satisfying, and it made her feel as though she was actually making the dinner – instead of her magic doing it. She did, however, use her wand to lower the heat of the flames, just as Barty rushed into the kitchen.

He looked frighteningly wild – his hair was untidy and his eyes were wide and filled with an uncontrollable mania that she knew was dwelling in his brain. She blinked at him, and then gave him a small smile. "Hi, did you have a good day at—" she was cut off suddenly as Barty flitted across the kitchen to her and pressed his mouth to hers, hard. He took her wand out of her hand as he kissed her, and leaned around, prodding the flames under the pot with the wand. They disappeared, and he placed the wand on the counter, and gripped her waist with both of his hands. She broke out of the kiss, gasping for breath. "Barty, I—"

"—no talking," he muttered, and pulled her away from the counter, and laid her down on the expanse of the kitchen table. He stood up, and Luna became aware that he was unfastening his trousers, but before she could comment, he had leaned over and kissed her again. He pushed up the skirts of her blouse, and his skilled hand was suddenly pushing aside her underwear.

oOo

An hour later, they were both eating their dinner at the (recently wiped down) kitchen table. Apart from being slightly dishevelled, neither of them looked like they had just engaged in a sexual act on the surface that they were now eating their dinner from. They were silent for a while, and Luna finally was the first one to speak. "So, did you have a good day at work? That was the question I wanted to ask you, you know, before."

Barty smirked over his fork at her. "No, I had an awful day. I was sure that you weren't going to be here when I came back," he replied. "Convinced, in fact. If I could have gotten away from the office I was going to apparate to your father's house to make sure you came back."

A flit of relief passed through Luna. She was glad he hadn't been able to do that – as he would have found her working with Rolf, and that wouldn't have gone down well. "I promised you I would come back."

"I know. And now I believe you."

Luna smiled at him, and leaned back in her chair. Just as they both finished their dinners; a tiny, tennis-ball sized owl rocketed through the window, and landed in the jug of juice on the table. Luna fished it out, while Barty eyed her reproachfully. "What is that? You know we don't have letters – Luna…"

"I'm not communicating with anyone, Barty, I told you. You know I'm not – I've been with you and only you, all week." Luna pulled the roll of parchment from the sodden owl's foot, and read it aloud.

"_Dear Luna,_

_Mum wants to invite you for dinner this Sunday. I would really like to see you, too – we need to have a chat. I guess I wasn't really as understanding as I could have been, last time I saw you. I really hope you can come – this Sunday, arrive any time you like. Hopefully the ball-and-chain will let you come._

_I hope he takes that joke light-heartedly. I want to have a proper chat with you, and understand your situation a bit more._

_All my love,  
Ginny."_

oOo


	19. Ginny the Matchmaker

oOo

The next day, Barty and Luna had woken up unusually early, and were both sat in the living room – a room they rarely used other than to travel via the fireplace. Luna had remembered her mental note about talking to Barty about whether they should make people aware of their new status. It was something she needed to be aware of, especially seeing as Barty had unbelievingly allowed her to go to the Weasley's for dinner on Sunday. They had been talking awkwardly about this subject for a while now.

"I don't want to say anything to my friends if you don't want people to be aware," Luna told him, sitting cross-legged in an armchair opposite him. Barty was leaning against the wall, looking thoughtful. After a few minutes, he finally spoke.

"Okay, I think people should know."

"You do?"

Barty nodded. "News travels fast, especially at places like the Ministry. Also, in my office, I know that they do yearly census reports – they like to know where witches and wizards are living and with whom."

"So, what will we tell people? Are you…" Luna paused, rolling the word around in her mouth. "My boyfriend?" It sounded strange, like it didn't really fit their relationship.

Barty laughed half-heartedly. "Luna, I'm a little old to be your boyfriend," he unfolded his arms and walked towards the fireplace. "We're living together."

"We have living arrangements," Luna emphasised.

Barty grabbed a handful of Floo powder and smirked at her. "We have sexual arrangements," and with that last, slightly humorous comment, he threw the powder to his feet, and vanished in a puff of green smoke.

oOo

When Barty arrived at the Administration office and slung his coat over the rack, Stamford was more than surprised. Barty seemed unnaturally happy to be up so early in the morning; he didn't normally come round until after his lunch. More to Stamford's surprise, instead of taking his place at his desk against the opposite wall, he walked straight over to Stamford's desk, throwing himself into the chair opposite him and lounging back in it. "Morning, Stamford."

Stamford raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you, Barty? Is there something you need?"

"I need to tell you something. It's to do with my household. You might want a new census form," Barty flourished his wand at one of the boxes on the shelf that he had previously organised, and a form on pale blue paper soared out of it, landing neatly in front of Stamford, who didn't question this. He withdrew a quill and an ink bottle from his desk, and looked at Barty patiently. "You remember you told me about the whole Unbreakable Vow arrangement before I was born, and the girl?"

"How could I forget," Stamford answered. "Oh, Barty, please don't tell me you _kidnapped _her – because there are a lot of rumours floating around on that subject, but I was turning a blind ear to them…"

"What? What rumours?" Barty demanded. "No, of course I haven't _kidnapped _her. I mean, she didn't want to come at first – but she has changed her mind, now."

Stamford looked relieved as he started to scratch something out on the parchment. "So, Luna Lovegood is living at your place of residence willingly?"

"That's correct," there was more quill scratching.

"So – what is the situation? Is there something _between _you two? The census form asks for a direct reference of your relationship."

Barty paused, and a flash of memories rippled through his mind – of him undressing her out of her pretty blue robes; having desperate, rough sex on the kitchen table the night before; kissing her until they both fell asleep. They still hadn't come to grounds with what their relationship was. "We're just living together."

"Strictly…platonic…" Stamford spoke as he wrote. "Thank heavens for that – I mean, there must be what – seventeen years between you both?"

"I've seen wider age gaps," Barty dismissed. "Is that all for the census?"

"Yes, all updated," Stamford placed his quill in his ink bottle and leaned forward across the table, looking at Barty. "So – if you don't mind me asking, Barty, if Luna is living with you willingly, why has Xenophilius Lovegood not returned from his travels? Because, I'll be honest with you – I put two and two together when he first left the country, you know – he must have left because he was afraid of you. But if Luna is with you now, he should really have come back. All of _The Quibbler _readers have been raging over his absence – actually writing into the _Daily Prophet _for answers, if you can believe that!" Stamford gave a hearty chuckle.

"I don't know why he hasn't come back yet, but Luna has taken over as editor for _The Quibbler_ now," Barty answered.

"Oh, well she was right in time. There was hearsay in the cafeteria about someone getting sent over to the Lovegood house to act as temporary editor."

Barty nodded, and stood up. "Well, it won't be necessary, now. Luna was quite eager to start working again." He fanned a hand at Stamford, and wandered over to his desk to start work.

oOo

Hours later, Luna was once again saying goodbye to Rolf, before she was going to step into the fireplace and use the Floo Network to return home. He had worked well today, and she was quite impressed – though she was getting increasingly irritated with him, and it was only the second day. On three occasions during the day he had made random attempts to take her out – once asking her if she wanted to get lunch and take the rest of the day off, once telling her that he had tickets for the Weird Sisters and would she like to come along, and once more offering to take her out for a drink. She rebuffed each and every one of his advances, and was beginning to question his motives. Had he come here because he really wanted a job, or was their some ulterior reason?

Luna had never been popular at school – and she never really spoke to Rolf during her time at Hogwarts. But now that she was thinking about it, she did remember a few occasions of interaction between them, back then. He was scrawnier then, and his hair was lighter, and he often had a flurry of pimples across his face. He looked nothing like that now, which was probably why she didn't recognise him at first, but she was starting to have various memories of Rolf at Hogwarts. She remembered that he had often hung around her in the Ravenclaw common room, making random attempts at conversation. He had also tried to offer his help to her a few times, when she had her things stolen and hidden by other schoolmates. The more Luna remembered, the more she began to wonder if Rolf was _attracted _to her.

Being so unpopular with most of the people at her school, she had never had a boyfriend before. No one had ever showed her any level of affection that she'd recognised – no one other than Barty, and his attraction to her could hardly be compared to the likes of schoolboys. She decided to make it a priority to mention that she wasn't interested in Rolf tomorrow, so that he wouldn't keep hoping after her, furthermore embarrassing himself.

She waggled her fingers at Rolf and stepped up out of the printing room, but he stopped her, once again. "Hey, Luna?"

Luna tried not to sigh with irritation. If only he knew how angry Barty would be if she wasn't home. "Yes, Rolf?" she managed to stifle the annoyance in her voice.

"I wondered if you could shed some light on this for me," he stood up and walked towards her, whilst rifling through his pockets. He pulled out a small roll of parchment, and handed it to her. She took it, and scanned the details.

_Dear Rolf Scamander,_

_I've overheard that you have started working for _The Quibbler _now! Congratulations. I also heard that Luna is working on it now too, so you'll be working together, right?_

_I know you don't really know me, but I was wondering if you'd like to come for dinner at our house on Sunday. Luna is practically part of our family, and if you're going to be working closely with her then we should get to know you, too! _

_Please write back to let me know if you are going to be there._

_Oh, and don't let Luna know I've written to you. I'd like to surprise her!_

_Yours sincerely  
Ginny Weasley_

Luna dropped the parchment. "You have been invited to dinner?"

"Weird, right?" Rolf picked up the letter and shoved it back into his pocket. "I've never even spoken to Ginny Weasley – or any of the Weasleys for that matter."

Luna looked away from him, thinking hard. Why had Ginny invited Rolf to dinner? Why had she told him not to tell her? Why did she want it to be a _surprise_? All these thoughts and possible reasons flooded over Luna's brain momentarily. Rolf was right – he didn't even know the Weasleys, not well enough to earn himself a dinner invitation, anyway. So why had he been invited? What was Ginny planning?

But Luna was clever – she hadn't been placed in Ravenclaw for nothing. The answer came to her immediately – it was shockingly obvious. Was Ginny planning some kind of set-up between Luna and Rolf? Was she trying to play matchmaker, and get her away from Barty once and for all?

Luna spun on her heel and rushed towards the fireplace, ignoring Rolf's shouts for her to wait. She shouted Barty's address, and travelled through the Floo Network until she reached the familiar living room. Once again, she had arrived home before Barty, which thankfully gave her time to think. She perched precariously on the sofa, delving into her thoughts. She needed to tell Barty about this – he needed to know. He also needed to know that Rolf was now working with her, as it would soon become common knowledge at the Ministry and he would be even angrier with her if he found out from another source.

Barty appeared in the fireplace a short while later and he rushed over to Luna with the same desperation in his eyes that had been there the night before. She allowed him to kiss her briefly, but placed her hands on his when they started travelling southwards. "Barty, I need to talk to you."

He sat back, looking slightly rejected. "What about?"

Luna jumped up and dashed into the kitchen suddenly, and filled up a cup with the calming drought. She knew he needed his potion in him before he got angry – she didn't want to deal with that right now. She rushed back into the living room with the brimming cup, and passed it to him. He eyed her suspiciously, but downed the potion in one, nonetheless. She waited until she saw his face glaze over, and started to speak.

She explained to him about Rolf coming to work at _The Quibbler_. Without a single lie, she told him everything that had happened – from Rolf knocking on her door to ask for a job, to Rolf showing her the letter he'd received from Ginny. She voiced her worries that Ginny was trying to set her up with Rolf, but assured Barty that she was in no way attracted to Rolf in anyway. Strangely, Barty was quiet throughout her outburst. After she finished speaking, there was a long, eerie silence, before he spoke.

"Well then, I suppose it makes sense that I should come to the wonderful Weasley dinner with you," he sneered, and then leaned towards Luna with a smirk. "Now stop talking – for the next twenty minutes at least, anyway." She nodded, and melted into him as he flattened her on the sofa, and started laying kisses across her neck.

oOo


	20. Sunday Dinner

oOo

That Sunday, Luna apparated a few minutes away from the Burrow, and walked over slowly. She was early – it was only eleven 'o' clock in the morning. Barty had told her that he would maybe arrive later, but not to tell them that he would be coming. She was kind of glad that he had insisted she didn't pre-warn them, as she didn't really know how she would tell them that an ex-Death Eater and her previous captor would be joining them, uninvited, for dinner.

Mrs Weasley noticed her from the kitchen window, and waved for her to come in, which Luna did. It was only Mrs Weasley in there, and Luna sat down while Mrs Weasley made uncomfortable small talk. She didn't seem to be able to look Luna directly in the eye, and she had a suspicion that Mrs Weasley was worrying if Barty's influence would rub off on Luna. After she had finished monitoring part of the dinner, she sat down opposite Luna, and smiled, but she looked rather sad. "You look lovely, Luna. You're glowing."

Luna smiled back, brightly. "Thank you, Mrs Weasley. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, dear."

"Is Ginny trying to set me up with Rolf Scamander?"

The directness of the question took Mrs Weasley aback, and she flushed a deep red that rivalled the colour of her hair. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, resembling a goldfish, and just as she was about to speak, Mr Weasley burst through the kitchen door. "Hello, Luna!" He walked round the kitchen table and kissed Mrs Weasley on the cheek. "Wow, smells great in here! I'm looking forward to dinner!" He was wearing what resembled overalls, and covered in oil. "I've just been out in the shed, working…working on…" he looked at Mrs Weasley nervously, and she flared up. In the next moment, she was shouting at him, and Luna decided that it was time to get out of their way.

She wandered into the unusually quiet living room, and sat down in an armchair. After about ten minutes, there were voices from above, and Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron suddenly flooded out of the staircase. They rushed over to Luna when they spotted her, hugging and greeting her in turn. Ginny took extra amount of time hugging her, and then leant back, gripping her by the shoulders and scanning her face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she told her friend. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Ginny threw herself down on the couch next to Harry. "We should all have a chat, Luna."

Luna sat herself back down, too, and waited until Ron and Hermione had taken seats before she spoke. "Is this about how you've invited Rolf Scamander over for dinner, without telling me?"

Much like her mother had done, Ginny glowed red. "He told you?"

"Yes of course he told me. He couldn't understand why you would invite him seeing as he doesn't know any of you – but I understood it."

"You did?" Ginny licked her lips tentatively.

"Yes."

Ginny sighed loudly, and burst into a flood of speech. "Well, I'm sorry Luna – but Rolf really likes you! Did you never notice how much he fancied you at school? He was always following you around! I was actually just thinking about writing to him when Dad came home from work and said the grandson of Newt Scamander was looking everywhere for a job, and he'd been appointed to work as temporary editor of _The Quibbler_! And then he heard the next day that you had started taking over your father's work, so I just assumed you and Rolf were now working together. I thought it would be really nice if you could have dinner together and get to know each other better, so that…so that…"

"Believe me, none of the rest of us had anything to do with this," Ron interjected, looking apologetically at Luna. "We tried to tell her, but…"

"I just care about you so much!" Ginny shouted, throwing her head back. There were tears in her eyes. "I can't even concentrate on my upcoming wedding because I'm so worried about you – all the time. You don't write anymore, you're acting different – I just don't know what's happened to you! The Luna we knew would never have gotten involved with a Death Eater!"

"He's not a Death Eater anymore," Luna said quietly. "I love you, Ginny – you're my best friend, but I can look after myself. I appreciate what you're trying to do – I know you only want to help me – but please. I need you to stop trying to get involved in this, because you could only be endangering yourselves."

"See what I mean?" Ginny replied, speaking more to Harry than to Luna. "Do you hear yourself? You're practically saying he will try to kill us but it's alright!"

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, and they all looked up. Mrs Weasley was stood in the doorway with Rolf Scamander at her side. He wandered into the living room, looking extremely awkward, and the six of them commenced talking, trying to keep the subject of Barty Crouch Junior strictly out of the conversation. Eventually, Ginny stood up and wandered towards the staircase, looking meaningfully at Luna. Luna followed her up the stairs until they reached her bedroom, and Ginny put her arms around her friend suddenly.

"Please just give Rolf a try."

"I can't."

"But he's a really nice guy!"

"I _can't_, Ginny!" Luna pushed her friend away, and Ginny looked at her sadly.

"What is he making you do? Why is he forcing you to stay with him?"

"Ginny, you know he's not making me stay there anymore. You know that. I don't want to leave him."

"But _why_? It doesn't make sense!" She looked frustrated.

"Please don't question it. He needs me. I want to stay with him. Please, just leave it."

"Well, at least _try _to get to know Rolf," Ginny muttered. With a sigh, Luna eventually nodded – just to shut her up. "Also, I think we should maybe not talk about Barty while he's here. We don't want him to get the wrong impression." Luna nodded in agreement, and the two of them headed downstairs. She felt a lot better now that they had _kind _of cleared their argument up, and they could talk a little more animatedly before dinner.

oOo

Mr Weasley had set up the dinner table outside, thankfully under a large gazebo, as the weather was beginning to get quite cold and wintry. It was big enough for the whole family and the several guests. Various charms and spells had been placed around the gazebo and it was as warm as it would be if they were sat indoors. Mrs Weasley was bringing around the food, and soon, everyone was tucking into a huge, delicious turkey dinner.

As Luna had predicted, she had been ushered into a seat next to Rolf, with Ginny on her other side. Poor Rolf was looking increasingly uncomfortable, especially as he and Luna listened to Ginny waffling about her wedding plans.

"…and we found you a bridesmaid's dress, Luna – that is, hoping you're _allowed _to come," she laughed and took a long gulp of her wine. "We're going to have a Christmas wedding, between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve. Your dress is going to be a nice, icy blue – not quite as blue as those robes you have…"

Luna's mind tailed off into her thoughts as she remembered what she had done whilst wearing those robes. Her face and neck suddenly began to feel quite hot, and she returned her thoughts back to what Ginny was saying.

"…there will be dyed pale blue roses, and all the men will have blue ties and roses in their button holes. All the décor will be white and blue, and we're going to have some ice sculptures, and Fleur's going to bring some of her Veela relatives to perform for us."

"Veela relatives?" Ron suddenly looked interested. Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs, and he coughed up a piece of turkey.

"As you can see, Ginny has planned everything to the last detail," Harry said, whilst trying not to laugh at Ron. "I didn't really agree to the Veela performance, though…"

"They're not _full _Veela," Ginny replied. "They won't turn into birds and stuff – they're just going to dance and sing."

"Sounds good to me," Ron muttered, earning himself another sharp nudge from his girlfriend.

"So, what do you think?" Ginny asked Luna, and started to dig into her roast potatoes.

"It sounds lovely, Ginny," Luna smiled. "I can't wait to be part of your wedding."

"So you'll be able to come?"

"Of course."

Ginny beamed. "Brilliant! Hey, maybe you could bring Rolf as your plus one?"

Rolf grinned.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Ginny," Luna muttered, staring at her meaningfully. Ginny rolled her eyes and they all tucked into their dinners without saying much else, and mainly listening to the rest of the conversations around the table. Ginny had started talking privately to Harry, and Ron and Hermione were having their own discussion, leaving Luna to talk to no one but Rolf.

He was eating his dinner slowly, and kept shooting her glances. "This is nice," he commented, finally, just as he was scraping up the last of his gravy.

"What is?" she asked him. Luna had also finished her dinner, and was leaning back in her chair.

"Spending time with you."

Luna sighed. "Rolf, are you…interested in me?"

Rolf smiled suddenly, and his cheeks tinged pink. "Is it that obvious?"

"Kind of."

"Yes, I am. I have been for years, in fact. And I'll tell you the truth, now that I've had a few alcoholic beverages," he leaned closer to her, and beckoned her to come nearer so that he could whisper. "I only agreed to go work on _The Quibbler _with the hopes that I would bump into you." He gazed into her eyes with his grey eyes that looked so pitiful in that moment, and whilst Luna thought about what he had said, she noticed that he was moving closer and closer to her, until she could feel his breath on her lips.

She backed away from him suddenly. "What are you doing?"

Rolf flushed red. "I'm sorry—Luna, I think I misjudged you…"

"I like you Rolf, but not like that. I'm sorry," she paused, and looked around the table to make sure that no one had seen what he almost did. "If you carry on behaving like that, I will have to ask you to stop working with me."

Just as she finished speaking, she overheard Hermione whispering to Ron. "This setup is so dangerous. Like Luna said, Barty might try to kill him," her voice was low, almost like a breath. "Ginny didn't really think this through." Hermione stopped speaking when she noticed Luna staring across the table at her.

"That's not the first time I've heard someone mention Barty Crouch's name," Rolf muttered, and threw his napkin down. "Is there something going on between you and him?"

Luna pressed her lips together. "It's really none of your business."

"It is when _she_," Rolf pointed dramatically at Ginny. "Is inviting me over for dinner to try and set us up together! I don't want to get sucked into anything to do with that guy – I like you Luna, but not enough to have to deal with that _maniac_—"

"—what maniac?" came a voice from the other end of the gazebo.

oOo

Everyone looked up at the same time, a silence echoing across the table, broken only by the sound of forks clattering on plates. Nearly everyone made the same movement; a flurry of wands whipping from pockets and everyone jumping to their feet. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mr Weasley, Percy, Bill, Fleur, Fred and Charlie were all pointing their wands right at the man at the end of the gazebo, making it ten against one. Instead of being afraid, Barty simply laughed, and twitched suddenly, his tongue flicking against the corner of his mouth. He had his hands in the pockets of his long brown overcoat, and was smirking down the length of the table. His eyes caught Luna's, and his smirk only grew wider.

"Please put your wands away," Luna told everyone. "He isn't going to hurt you – he's not even armed, are you Barty?"

Barty raised both of his empty palms, in a mock surrender. Slowly, everyone lowered their wands and returned to their seats, keeping their eyes set on the intruder. "I've just come to collect Luna, and have a little word with you all."

"Barty, let's just leave," Luna scrambled to her feet and walked around the table, standing at Barty's side. He held his hand up in her face, effectively quietening her. Luna saw Ginny's face flood with anger at this notion, but she ignored it. The more important thing was the maniacal look in Barty's eyes, the way his hands clenched and unclenched, and by the way his twitch had increased – his tongue was shooting into the corner of his mouth more frequently than usual. She knew he hadn't taken his potion at all yet, despite telling Luna before she left the house that he would.

"Shh," he ushered to Luna, and then looked back out at the rest of the Weasleys. "I don't know if you are all aware of this, but someone has tried to arrange some kind of indecent little setup between Luna and another young man," Barty's eyes scanned the table, and they settled on Rolf, who was averting his gaze. "You should know that if this continues – I will not react well."

"Barty, _please_," Luna muttered. "They know."

"Luna is _mine_." Barty grabbed Luna's arm, and she barely had time to wave goodbye, before she was sucked into side-along apparition with Barty.

oOo


	21. Forever Unfixable

oOo

As the weeks went on, Barty was becoming increasingly concerned that his calming drought wasn't working as effectively as it had when he was first prescribed it. He wondered initially if it was because he wasn't brewing it properly, but after vanishing one full vat of potion and starting again from scratch, following the instructions to the very last detail, and he knew it couldn't be his fault. It was possible he was developing immunity to the calming drought – he took it twice, sometimes thrice a day, often doubling up on measurements and having extra, too.

The first thing he noticed was that his twitch was prominent _all _the time now. And whilst he wasn't always as reactive as he used to be, he was definitely having the strong emotions he didn't normally have when he had taken his calming drought. The pleasant, clearing feeling that he usually had in his brain after taking the potion no longer lasted. Slowly, he could feel it not working for him anymore, and though he was embarrassed to admit it, he was a little concerned.

His first thought was to discuss this with Luna, but he changed his mind shortly after. He'd been trying so hard to keep her happy – by allowing her to continue going to her home to work at _The Quibbler_, and even allowing her to let Rolf keep working there – after he had a personal chat with him. He trusted Luna indefinitely, and she was definitely happier since he had been acting this way with her. The last thing he wanted to do now was give her something else to worry about – she had just completely got to grips with his mental instability, she could handle it now. He didn't want to throw another spanner into the works.

Today he had his weekly appointment with John Dawlish at the Ministry, and before he set off for work, he wondered briefly if it was worth asking Dawlish for another appointment at the healing clinic, to see if there was anything else they could do.

But Barty didn't feel confident. The healer or doctor that Barty had seen had only given him the calming drought to manage him – it was like he said, his condition was unfixable. What if this happened with every potion or medicine Barty was given? He would live on it happily for a few weeks or months, and then eventually it would just start becoming part of his bloodstream and no longer working on him anymore. He knew he needed to see the Healer again, but he didn't really want to go back to the clinic. He decided to just settle for seeing how it went, for now.

oOo

Barty later found himself sat in the ex-Auror's office, sat across from John Dawlish, who was lazily writing notes in a notebook. Dawlish had asked him several half-hearted questions, mainly trying to focus on the subject of Luna Lovegood living at his house, something that was now common knowledge around the Ministry, and the biggest source of gossip. As Dawlish eventually got onto the topic of his mental health, whilst still somehow managing to link this in with Luna, Barty found himself tailing off into a lapse of speech.

"…and Luna has this guy working with her at _The Quibbler_, called Rolf I think, and I really didn't want to carry on letting that happen – but I did. I am improving, I know that –Luna and I are really good together, and she doesn't get upset anymore. But this Rolf guy, I know he's interested in her. I trust Luna but I don't trust Rolf – and I don't want him working there with her, but I have to let it carry on because Luna has to be happy. She deserves to be happy." Barty paused, as sudden realisation washed over him.

"So…Barty, you need to clear things up for me. Every time I or anyone else asks, you say that you and Luna are just living together. But after you've just said all that, I'm beginning to think that there's something else. Do you want to elaborate on that for me?"

"You are obsessed with Luna living with me, aren't you?" Barty asked suddenly, his voice cold.

"Well you have to understand – it's something a lot of people can't get to grips with. A young girl living with an ex-Death Eater twice her age, I mean…people talk, Barty."

"I don't care about people talking," replied Barty. "And neither does Luna."

"Okay. Well, I have noticed a marked improvement in your personality, Barty – but I have to be honest with you. In our recent appointments, you have been slipping a little. You seem to be going back to some old mind-sets, and I can tell by looking at you that you're not taking your medication, are you?" Dawlish looked at him questioningly.

"No. That's not it," Barty started, slumping back in his seat. "I take it all the time, religiously, in fact. I take more than I should, actually. I even carry it around with me in a flask. But I'm worried its effectiveness is lacking." He paused as Dawlish scribbled something down in his notes, his brow furrowed. "I've tried remaking it and even though I know the recipe by heart, I did it from the book. I'm telling you – it's not working anymore."

"Well, I think that is well worth a visit back to the Healing Clinic," Dawlish muttered, whilst looking through his notes. "We don't want you returning to your old habits while you're living with a young girl _and _working at the Ministry, do we? Your life seems to be going so well."

Barty rolled his eyes. He didn't really want to have to visit the Healing Clinic, but Dawlish was right – his life was for the better now, and he needed to keep it that way. So an appointment with the doctor was probably for the best. "When should I go?"

"Well, today is the last day before your department is on shutdown," Dawlish replied. "You have a week's holiday over Christmas, and then you'll be back two days after New Year's Day. I don't believe there are any available appointments until then, so you will have to wait. Will that be okay?"

Barty nodded.

Dawlish carried on looking at him carefully, and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Barty?"

"Of course I'm sure. It's not like I live alone anymore, is it?" He stood up, and bade goodbye to Dawlish, and then left the office.

As he often got to go home early on Fridays after his appointment, he headed straight for the Atrium to start heading home. His realisation during the meeting had drawn up some new worries in him. As he travelled home, his mind was clouded over with doubts.

He was unstable. His life was a mess – it always had been, and now he was dragging Luna into his pit of misery. He had been so different back when he was first released from Azkaban – so uncaring and indifferent; his only ideas were to use Luna for his own benefit. But all that had changed, now. He was deeply attached to the young girl, so much so that he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her any more than he already had done. Luna was vibrant and unusual and beautiful; she deserved to be placed on a pedestal and adored.

What if working at _The Quibbler _was just the start of her upgrading her life? What he was preventing her from being eternally happy?

Barty didn't know where these sudden dark thoughts had come from, but as he sat down in his living room he threw his head into his hands, and pulled on his hair.

Maybe he would have to let Luna go. Then she could go on and be happy, and he could stay here, forever unfixable.

oOo


	22. Christmas Spirit

**A.N: **PLEASE READ: DO NOT READ ON IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED BY SELF-HARM OR SUICIDAL BEHAVIOURS BECAUSE YOU WON'T LIKE THIS CHAPTER IF SO.

* * *

oOo

It was Christmas Eve, and Luna was feeling brighter and even more cheery than she had done in a while. She had just finished her last article for _The Quibbler_, and would now be spending the rest of the days until New Year's Day at home, with no need to work. Barty had allowed her to carry on working, even though he'd been so unstable about the previous set-up and Rolf, and he'd even allowed her to let Rolf keep working there. Things seemed to be going fantastically – and even though she couldn't have ever imagined she would be spending Christmas with someone like Barty, she was still happy.

Barty hadn't seemed as happy in the last few days, but Luna put it down to his lack of Christmas spirit. He had muttered something about not having great Christmas holidays as a child, because of how his father was, so Luna was even more determined to make this a great Christmas. Barty had even, unbelievably, been listed on the invitation to Ginny and Harry's wedding, which was taking place at the Burrow, the day after Boxing Day.

She was writing a quick Christmas card out to her father, and then she tied the envelope to the leg of the owl that often hung around the Lovegood household, and it flew off. Rolf was packing up his things too, and they both walked out of the house together, Luna leaving Rolf to lock the door.

"Well, Merry Christmas, Luna," Rolf bade her with a smile.

"You too, Rolf."

"Are you sure I can't tempt you for a Christmas Butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron?" he added, hopefully. Luna shook her head dismissively. "Okay, well. I'll see you at the wedding!"

Luna hadn't invited Rolf along as her plus one as Ginny had hoped, and she briefly hoped he was aware of that. For a moment she decided if she should ask him, but then changed her mind, deciding not to dim his good mood.

"Have a good Christmas," and with that last note, she apparated on the spot.

oOo

When Luna returned to the Crouch Manor, she was greeted with a very unusual sight. Luna had spent all of the day before stringing Christmas decorations across the living room – it was almost overcrowded with them – but Luna loved Christmas. Today however, the decorations had been torn down. Everything, in fact – the streamers had been yanked down from their positions on the ceiling, the previously glittering fairy lights were snapped at the middle, there were smashed baubles and ornaments littering the floor, and much to Luna's disdain, the Christmas tree was toppled over, lying on the ground pathetically. The angel that was bewitched to move and speak was laying aside the tree, looking extremely disgruntled. As Luna stepped passed, she spoke.

"He's mad, you know! Destroying the Christmas spirit like this! Who on earth would have thought," the angel cried in a high pitched voice, her feathery wings fluttering. Luna reached down and picked her up, settling her on the mantle, and called out.

"Barty?" she shouted tentatively into the house. Her voice echoed, but he didn't answer. Normally he would be in the kitchen, but upon looking in there, she couldn't find him.

She wandered through the house, checking every bedroom and office on every floor. He didn't seem to be anywhere.

Eventually she came to a bathroom, which she had not been inside before. She normally used the en suite in her bedroom. The door was locked, but after using _Alohamora_, she managed to pull the door open.

At first she thought it was a joke. Barty was laid in the bath, dressed apart from his shirt, with his legs hanging over the sides. The showerhead that hung over the bath was running, and Luna noticed that water was dripping over the sides of the bath – it was obviously overfilled. "Barty, what are you doing?" she stepped forwards slowly, wondering if he'd fallen asleep.

But then she realised.

She screamed in shock. Barty was a mess. There were long, deep cuts in each of his inner forearms, which were bleeding heavily into the bath, making the water run red. He looked unbelievably paler than usual, and his eyes were half open, his mouth slack. She noticed pills were scattered around him – pills of every colour and shade, and there was dye from the pills around his mouth. He was breathing slightly, but he looked so dead. What had he tried to do? Why would he do this?

Tears streamed down Luna's cheeks as ran her wand across the wounds on his arms, and they healed slowly, leaving a stretched mark of shiny skin in their place. She then hauled him into a sitting position, and climbed into the bath behind him, despite being fully clothed. His body was limp and heavy, but she managed to straighten him up, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. One of her hands crept towards his mouth, which she pulled open, and shoved two of her fingers into his mouth, digging them to the back of his throat. Her other arm wound tightly around his chest and stomach, and she pressed her face into his back. "Please…please, Barty…don't do this to me…"

He made a quiet, mumbling sound, and Luna pressed her fingers further into his mouth. Suddenly, his body heaved, and Luna pulled her hand away just in time, as he was violently sick shortly afterwards. After several minutes of vomiting, he leant forwards in the bath, panting heavily. Luna was crying desperately, both of her arms around him as she sobbed into his back. She laid kisses everywhere she could reach, silently thanking whoever she could that he was alive, and the words rose out of her throat before she could prevent them. "I love you."

oOo

An hour later, Luna had managed to get Barty up to bed, and had cleaned the bathroom from top to bottom. She was now laid on her back in her bed, with Barty's head on her chest, and she stroked his hair slowly. She was still shaken and emotional and just listening to the man besides her breathing was extremely satisfying.

"Luna…" he spoke softly, his breath warm across her chest. She looked down at him.

"Hey. How do you feel?"

"My stomach is killing me."

Luna didn't reply straight away, but eventually decided to cut straight to the chase. "Barty, why did you do that?"

Barty sighed loudly. "I'll explain it another time, Luna. I still don't really understand it myself. It was just…the Christmas decorations and all the worries…"

"What worries, Barty?"

"Another time, Luna," Barty dismissed, and Luna nodded.

"Let's just go to sleep, then. She pointed at the light with her wand, and it switched off immediately, plunging them both into instant darkness.

"Luna?"

"Yes?"

She heard Barty swallow in the dark. "I love you, too."

oOo


	23. The Wedding

oOo

Barty was still ill when they arrived at Ginny and Harry's wedding.

Luna hadn't really wanted to bring him, but Barty had insisted on coming. He had stopped taking his calming drought over Christmas, and Luna knew that the only thing preventing him from fully re-emerging as his true self was the illness that hung over him. His overdose attempt had weakened him considerably, but there were still fragments of the old Barty in there.

She couldn't deny that while she had liked the person Barty had become whilst taking the calming drought, there were still the parts of him that she was undoubtedly attracted to, traits that he had before he was medicated. His sneer, the way his lip curled when he spoke, the strange twitch that caused his tongue to flick. He looked absolutely crazy, but she couldn't help but find him so irresistible. Luna couldn't understand how she hadn't noticed this before. Without his potion, he had been shorter with her, snapping at her and ordering her around. He was playing mind games with her once again, but she found that she no longer cared. This was just who he was.

But she had been nervous about bringing him to the wedding. He still didn't seem to be at full physical health, never mind his mental health seeping back through. She promised herself that she would stay around Barty at all times, just to make sure.

However, that didn't really go to plan. As soon as they arrived at the Burrow, they had no sooner stepped into the vast gazebo when Mrs Weasley appeared out of nowhere and tugged on Luna's arm. She barely had time to turn around and look apologetically at Barty before she was whisked into the house, leaving him stranded and staring at the space where she had just been. Luna didn't miss, however, the dark look that cast over his brown eyes before she was yanked out of his grip.

Mrs Weasley was ushering Luna into the house by her shoulders, despite her protests. "Mrs Weasley, I really should go back to Barty…"

"No! You're already late as it is! Ginny is _beside _herself, dear."

"Do I really need to come inside, I thought I could sit inside and wait…"

Mrs Weasley drew them both to a halt suddenly, still holding Luna by the shoulders. "I beg your pardon?"

Luna looked up at Mrs Weasley in shock, and suddenly realisation spread throughout her like a cold flood. "Oh…I'm sorry, Mrs Weasley, I completely forgot!"

"You forgot that you were the bridesmaid to your best friend's wedding?" Mrs Weasley looked thunderous. "Did that really slip your mind?"

A sudden surge of anger rose in Luna. She'd had a terrible week, with Barty attempting suicide and Christmas being spent quite despairingly. She couldn't help that these events were slightly more at the forefront of her mind than being bridesmaid. Luna loved Ginny, and was glad she was getting married to Harry, but it had all come at the complete wrong time. "I'm _sorry; _Mrs Weasley, but I've just had other things on my mind."

"Yes, we're all aware of the things on your mind. The things that all go on with-with-_that man_," she hissed. "Maybe if you took some time away from your busy schedule with a rampant criminal you'd be aware of the things going on with the people who care about you!"

"He is not a rampant criminal," Luna started. "Barty is _ill._"

"He is not ill, he is just a maniac! If I could have it my way, he wouldn't even be here! But Ginny insisted as she didn't think you would come otherwise!" Mrs Weasley's voice was raised now, and Luna was sure she would be heard through the open windows. "The least you could do, Luna, is show a bit of consideration for Ginny. She has been trying to plan this wedding, and still been worrying continuously about you, and we hear _nothing _from you. Over the past few days, not even a 'Merry Christmas' or a 'how's the preparation going?' Nothing! What have you been doing, lying about in his murder house and doing whatever you do!" Mrs Weasley's entire face was a vicious shade of red; she had clearly already been irritated with Luna before she even arrived.

Luna couldn't hold in her upset any longer. She very rarely lost her temper; it was something that only usually occurred when her loved ones were being threatened. "If you must know, I was going to come by on Christmas Eve when I finished working, but when I got home I discovered that Barty had slit his wrists and attempted suicide, so yes actually I was a little bit preoccupied!"

A long silence followed Luna's outburst. Both of the women stood opposite each other, wearing equal expressions of rage, with their teeth gritted. A door being ripped open next to them made them break away from each other's gaze, and turn to stare at Ginny, who was standing in the doorway.

She wasn't in her dress yet, covered with just a satin dressing gown, but she looked beautiful. Her hair was done up in a pretty up-do, with long, trailing curls hanging down at the nape of her neck. There was a pearl-encrusted clip securing the back of her hair, with a short veil attached to it, made of floating netted material. Her make-up was immaculate; her lips a dusky pink and her eyelids painted silver. She no longer looked like the girl Luna had met in her Transfiguration class in their first year; she looked like a woman.

Before Luna could comment, Ginny spoke first. "Luna, is that true?"

Luna nodded.

Ginny dragged Luna into the room, which had been set up with a dressing table and a full length mirror. Ginny's dress, along with a few others, had been hung up over a wardrobe near the window, which had the curtains drawn. "Let's not discuss it further. I was a bit upset that you didn't contact us, as I've been upset about the whole thing with Barty Crouch, but we won't discuss it today. Today is my day," Ginny grinned, and pushed Luna into the seat at the dressing table. "Fleur is going to make you look fabulous."

At that moment, Fleur came out from an adjoining room, with her own make-up and hair done. The part-Veela smiled widely and started chatting animatedly to Luna, whilst Ginny fiddled around with the train of her dress.

oOo

Within the hour, Luna was made up with make-up just like Ginny's, but Fleur had piled all of her hair up on top of her head, with long sections hanging around her face. Ginny had just dropped her dressing gown to the floor and was standing in front of the mirror in her slightly provocative white underwear. Just as she was fixing a blue-ribbon garter to her upper thigh, the door burst open.

Luna could have predicted it, but it still came as a shock. Barty was stood there in the doorway, with his eyes wide. He scanned the room before he focused on Luna, and his gaze softened a little. Ginny and Fleur both shrieked simultaneously.

"What are you doing?! You can't come in here! Get out!" Ginny yelled, ducking behind the mirror to protect her modesty. Luna stood up from her seat and hurried towards the door to usher Barty out, but Ginny was still screaming. "Get that pervert out of here, Luna!"

Barty cocked an eyebrow over at Ginny, where she was just peering out from behind the mirror. "You're not my type," he sneered. Yes, Luna thought. Barty was definitely returning back to his normal self.

"Barty, come on," Luna muttered. She stepped outside and shut the door behind her. "You can't be in there, there are girls getting undressed—"

"—I'd like to see you getting undressed," Barty whispered heatedly, and pressed both of his hands on the wall, pushing her against the wall and effectively trapping her. Luna tried to supress a laugh, and looked up at him.

"You seem to be getting back to your old self."

"I feel it, too," Barty murmured, leaning down and taking a strand of her hair between his fingers. "I feel so many things I forgot I could feel, before I was taking the calming drought."

"How do you feel now?" Luna asked nervously.

Barty pressed his body against hers. "What do you think?" she could feel his arousal digging into her stomach, but she tried to ignore it.

"I have to get back in there and get ready, Barty," Luna whispered as Barty lowered his lips precariously near to hers. "You go take a seat downstairs and I'll be right along."

"He's here," Barty muttered suddenly, just before he plunged his face into the side of her neck.

"Who is?"

"That dopey looking boy. Rolf."

"Oh…well, they said he would be."

"You didn't tell me he would be coming," he kissed her neck softly, sending a jolt of excitement straight to her groin.

"I'm sorry, Barty, I completely forgot."

He leaned back and kissed her briefly on the mouth before backing up. "Be aware of my reactions now that I'm not medicated, Luna," he said quietly, and gave her a last wave before vanishing around the corner, returning to the wedding party. Luna stood stock still for a moment, surprised at how quickly he had moved. She could still feel his warmth on her skin. Taking a deep breath, she walked back into the room, where Ginny was now in her beautiful wedding dress, and holding out Luna's.

oOo

Ten minutes later, Luna found herself wearing a pale blue chiffon dress that skimmed the floor, and clutching a small bouquet of the blue roses that Ginny had been describing, and walking slowly down the aisle behind Ginny and Mr Weasley, trying not to trip on the long, lacy white train of her dress. All of the family and friends were seated around the aisle, ooh-ing and aah-ing at Ginny, who looked simply radiant. When the eyes fell to Luna, however, she didn't need Legilimency to read their thoughts. Smiles faded, and nervous glances shot from Luna, to the man who was sat in a seat at the very back of the aisle.

Luna didn't care what any of those people thought, though. The only person whose opinion she truly was interested anymore was Barty, and she had seen the fire in his eyes when she walked through the opening of the gazebo. He looked breathless, and knowing that she had this effect on him only made her smile as radiantly as Ginny was.

oOo


	24. Barty's Relapse

oOo

Less than an hour later, the gazebo had been transformed from the wedding-setting to a dinner party setting, with white covered tables erupting from thin air, and the chairs that had been previously laid out in neat lines were now surrounding the tables.

As Luna had expected, she and Barty were sat on a table to themselves. It was like there was a bad smell around them, and people seemed to be essentially avoiding the area where Luna and Barty were sat. People were actually _standing_ to avoid sitting down in the only remaining seats. It was making Luna quite sad; to know that her friends and people she knew of fondly didn't want to know her anymore. Since her outburst early, Mrs Weasley had also been ignoring Luna quite pointedly, other than to shoot her the occasional miffed look.

Barty however, didn't seem quite so perturbed as Luna was. He wasn't looking anywhere but at Luna, and was sitting extremely close to her, with one arm over the back of her chair.

"Do you realise how good you look in that dress, Luna?" he murmured against her ear, his breath tickling her skin. She smiled, albeit sadly, and looked around at Barty.

"Thank you," she replied softly, and turned her head back to the guests of the wedding. As she returned her stare, she caught the eye of Neville Longbottom, who was sitting some way away with a group of people she knew from school, including Rolf and Hannah Abbot. He turned away quickly, and she noticed his cheeks reddening. A pang of remorse flittered through her heart suddenly. She would love to be sat at that table now, laughing with Neville and talking about school. She missed Neville terribly; this was the first time she had seen him since she left school.

"Who is that lump?" Barty muttered. His tone of voice had gone from silky and seductive in her ear, to suddenly harsh and cold as he noticed her looking at another man. His hand left her chair and flattened against her lower back, making her jump. Luna looked up at him quickly.

"He's just a friend from school, Barty," Luna replied. "Don't you…remember him?"

Barty was squinting at Neville, and Neville kept glancing back, his face turning redder and redder when he realised Barty was staring at him. "Of course. Neville Longbottom."

A sudden surge of realisation washed over Luna. Barty, under the disguise of Alastor Moody, had upset Neville by using the Cruciatus Curse in front of Neville, at school. Also under the disguise of Alastor Moody, he had used Neville by his own means to help Harry win the Triwizard Tournament. And worst of all, Barty had assisted in torturing his parents into insanity.

A lump formed in Luna's throat. She could tell that Neville was thinking of this, and wondering why on earth Luna, who was supposed to be one of his best friends, could possibly be sat here with Barty.

It was a quick thought, so small it was barely there – but it was: Luna was wondering the same thing.

She shook the thought out of her head straight away. She had made her choice, and had chosen to stay with Barty. He was unstable – he always had been unstable. He wasn't the same man that he used to be back then. But as Luna looked up at Barty, she noticed his brown eyes were holding that manic look that she only associated with trouble. A smirk was playing on his lips too, and Luna wondered desperately what he was thinking.

Suddenly, there was a shifting of chairs, and Luna noticed that Neville had stood up. There were tears in his eyes, and his face was the colour of a plum. With his fists balled, he charged into the direction of the house.

Luna stood up too, with the intent of running after him. She didn't know what she would say, but she had to say something. But before she could do so, Barty had grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back into her seat. "I have to go to him, Barty," Luna told him, looking into his eyes. Barty stood up instead.

"Don't worry about it. I'll go to talk to Longbottom."

"You—but, why?" Luna panicked.

"Shut up, Luna," muttered Barty. "Just stay here." Barty stalked off after Neville, not looking back at Luna.

Luna looked around the wedding party, shock registering on her senses. No one else seemed to have noticed. The table that Neville had been sat on were looking over at Luna pointedly, but no one had chosen to run after him. No one else had seen Neville even leave his table, never mind see Barty of all people rushing after him.

Several worries and thoughts rushed over Luna suddenly. What was happening? What was Barty doing? How could she have been stupid enough to think that Barty's presence at the wedding would go unnoticed? How could she have not even spared a thought for _Neville_, who would have surely been invited. How could she still be defending Barty deep down, when her friends were here, desperate for her to leave Barty and go back to normality? How many more people was she going to upset at this wedding?

Tears flooded her vision, and she rubbed her eyes. She loved Barty, she did. She knew it. But now that she was here around all the people she knew and loved, it was like she was seeing herself in a different light. Maybe it really was Stockholm Syndrome, and she was only madly in love with Barty because he was the only person around. Luna tried to imagine herself leaving Barty, and living a life without him, and she realised that it hurt her chest to even think about it. She had grown dependent on Barty, and he was definitely dependent on her…the vision of him lying motionless in the bath, with blood running down his forearms and into the water suddenly flashed before her eyes. She couldn't leave him, she simply couldn't. She loved her friends, especially Neville, but nothing seemed to compare how she felt about Barty.

She stood up suddenly, and screwed her eyes up to get the vision of Barty's suicide attempt out of her head. Luna thought she had gotten over the confusion of her feelings – they both thought they had. Suddenly she felt arms around her, and her face was pressed into a chest.

Luna felt grateful; she was so glad that Barty had rushed back down here. She didn't even care that they were stood in the middle of the wedding party, and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

But she realised she didn't have to reach far. She breathed in, and noticed that Barty didn't smell like…well, Barty. Luna pushed him away, and her eyes fell on the lazy, grey ones of Rolf Scamander.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, and looked around. Everyone was staring at them, but Barty wasn't back yet – thankfully. "Do you want him to kill you?"

Rolf stepped towards her, holding his hand out. "Are you okay, Luna?"

"No…I need to go find him…"

Rolf grabbed her hand, but she pulled it away quickly, and ran into the house.

oOo

Neville had been in a spare bedroom in the house when Barty burst into the same bedroom. It happened to be the one that Luna had occupied so long ago, when he had arrived in the very same room through the window to take her with him. The boy was perched on the edge of the bed, with tears in his eyes and his teeth gritted firmly. Barty smirked at him, and wandered over to the side of the bed, the long tail of his brown coat floating behind him.

"What the hell do you want?" Neville blurted out, throwing an angry glance at Barty.

"Just to see how you are, Longbottom. I saw you rush out of there, and I can only guess that it was because of me."

"You guessed right."

"You don't seem too well," Barty sneered, and sat down heavily next to Neville.

Neville's eyes landed on Barty's exposed wrists, which were still thickly padded with white bandages – Luna had been changing them daily. Even though she had healed his injuries by magic, she was still binding the scars, as her healing spell hadn't been as effective (probably due to her shock and stress during the incident), and the scars kept splitting and bleeding once again. "Speak for yourself," Neville muttered, landing his gaze back on Barty.

It was enough to anger Barty that this idiot boy had the nerve to call him out on something so personal. He grabbed Neville by the throat suddenly, his manic eyes boring into Neville's. "Come on now, Longbottom…that was rude wasn't it…" a surge of anger was rising in the pit of his stomach – a sense of danger was approaching.

"I'm not scared of you, Crouch," Neville spat back, but the tears in his eyes were welling up once again.

"Really? Is that why you're _crying_?"

"I'm not crying over _you_!" Neville shouted. "I'm crying over Luna!"

Barty loosened his grip on Neville. "Luna?"

"Yes, Luna," Neville shoved Barty back. "You've clearly messed her up somehow, haven't you? With how you are, you…She would never have fallen for someone like you. Someone that—did what you did! With your mad ways!"

Barty grabbed Neville by the throat once again, with both hands this time. "That was uncalled for, Longbottom," hissed Barty. "You don't want to end up like Mum and Dad, do you?!"

"Barty!" a high pitched scream erupted from the doorway. Barty threw his head around suddenly.

"What?!" he spat angrily, and then noticed who it was. Luna was standing there, with her hair falling out of it's up-do and tears trickling down her cheeks. She was holding her bridesmaid's flowers in one hand, but she had dropped them on the floor when she had seen what he was doing. He released Neville instantly, and held his hands up in mock surrender. "Luna. It's not what it looks like."

"What the hell does it look like?" she cried, and rushed over to Neville. She grabbed both of his hands, and hauled him to his feet, pushing him behind her so that she was stood in between the two men. Barty eyed Neville carefully, and then looked back down at Luna, his jaw set.

"Me and Neville were just having a chat."

There was a horrible cracking sound – Luna had just slapped Barty around the face. Her hand dropped limply afterwards, and then she raised it to her mouth, her eyes widening. Barty stood stock still, unmoving, his left cheek gradually growing red. For what seemed like hours, the two stared at each other, with Neville pacing nervously behind them.

"Barty—I'm sorry, I didn't…" Luna started, breathless. A flood of worry had washed over her, what he would do to her – to _Neville_…

Weirdly, he smiled. But it wasn't a nice smile – Luna could see that. The grin spread across his face widely, but his eyes still looked manic. He started laughing suddenly, a scary, mad laugh that shook Luna to her very core. He reached out and placed a hand on Luna's shoulder to steady himself, he was laughing that much. Eventually, he stopped, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye, and he was immediately stoic again.

"It's okay, Luna," he spoke in a falsetto sweet voice. "I hit you…now you've hit me. So we're even," the grin spread across his features again. Luna heard Neville's knuckles crack behind her before he spoke.

"You hit her?" Neville shouted. "You hit a woman? You hit _Luna_?"

"Neville, you need to get out," Luna whispered. "Please."

"Yes, Neville, I think you should leave. In fact, Luna, I think you and I will leave, too," Barty murmured. He had pulled his wand from his pocket and was wiping it on his sleeve. Luna didn't take her eyes off him.

"I'm not leaving you!" Neville bellowed.

"Stop being so fucking heroic!" spat Barty suddenly. "And get out of my sight before I kill you!"

"Barty, please," Luna mumbled. "Neville – please just _go_."

But Neville stood his ground. "I'm not leaving you, Luna. Come with me," Neville had his hand in his pocket now, and Luna looked up at him nervously.

"I can't leave him," she gestured to Barty, who had turned his back on the two of them now, and was looking out of the window.

"_STUPEFY!_" Neville yelled suddenly. He had brandished his wand from his pocket, and the spell hit Barty directly between the shoulder blades. There was a moment where Barty remained stood, and Luna wondered briefly if the spell hadn't worked, but then he crumpled to the ground. Luna ran over to his form and knelt beside him.

His eyes had fallen closed, his hand over his chest, and his mouth open slackly.

"Luna, let's go," Neville whispered. "Let's get out of here. You can stay with me and my Grandmother, she won't mind."

"I can't leave him," Luna replied, tears welling up in her eyes. "And I can't endanger you like that. He will find us and he will _kill _you."

"You need to get away from him – he's _crazy, _Luna!"

"Aren't we all," Luna cupped a hand around his cheek and felt the stubble under her fingers, as she looked down at him softly. She heard Neville sigh loudly, and he padded towards her, and crouched down next to her.

"Listen, Luna," he muttered. "He's unstable. Like, really unstable. Maybe you should just get away from him for a few days until he calms down."

"He won't understand. He'll think I've left him. I promised him I'd never leave him," she looked at Neville, her eyes glittering. "He's not always like this. He's just unwell at the moment. He's not been taking his medication."

"Okay, so how about this. You come with me, and we call the clinic he was going to when we're safe. They can come and deal with him, and then once he's medicated and feeling better you can come back to him."

"How can you be so easy going about this, after what he did to your parents?" Luna asked Neville quietly. Neville turned his head away from her, and stared down into Barty's face.

"You have to learn to forgive people. Not everyone has a reason for what they did. And I don't think you'd be with Barty if you thought he was truly evil."

oOo


	25. New Year, New Me

oOo

It had been three days since Luna had been dragged away from Harry and Ginny's wedding by Neville. She had been unceremoniously sectioned to Rolf Scamander's one-bedroom flat in Diagon Alley, and had heard nothing from Barty, Neville, or the fate of Harry and Ginny's wedding since the day.

On the third day, she woke up in Rolf's bed, stretching widely. Today was the first day that Luna and Rolf were due to start working on _The_ _Quibbler _again since their Christmas break, and the thought made Luna's insides churn. All she had wanted to do was curl up in a ball in bed, and wonder about Barty for the whole time.

She knew he would be furious. He would have searched everywhere for Luna, if he'd even been given the chance. She half-wondered what Barty would do to her when she finally got back this time, and pushed the thought out of her head quickly.

It had all happened so fast. One minute they were happy, she had rescued Barty from a suicidal fate and they had come to the wedding together. Barty was looking at her with a longing she could only describe as lustful, he had seemed so into her and all for her – and the next minute he was throttling Neville in a spare room and trying to upset him about his insane parents.

It was Barty who was insane. Luna had been trying to accept this fact since she had been brought to Rolf's flat. She already knew that he was mentally ill, he had mood swings that could rival a hormonal teenager and they were never pretty. But she found that no matter how much she tried to imagine Barty casting the Cruciatus Curse on Mr and Mrs Longbottom, or relived him slapping her around the face again, or doing any number of horrible and horrific things he'd probably done in his life, none of them could make Luna love him any less.

Barty was an unfixable stain on her heart, now. Nothing that he or she could do would make her have any lesser feelings for him. He was there, and there was nothing she could do about it, no matter how much she may want it.

Because in the days spent here, mulling over her feelings, Luna really had tried to rethink her decision to be with Barty. The incident with Neville seemed to have shaken her up – she was riled and angry and determined to be her own woman and decide she no longer wanted to be a part of this relationship with Barty, but she couldn't do it. She tried to convince herself that he was only endangering her and all of her friends, but she didn't know if she cared enough. Every night when she drifted off to sleep, she dreamt of his beguiling brown eyes, and his rough hands all over her body.

Rolf did the best he could to distract her. For one, he seemed to be relishing the time he was having with Luna. Of course, he slept on the sofa – he had tried to hint at 'top-and-tailing' in the double bed with Luna, but she was having none of it. It was either her sleeping on the couch, or him, and Rolf was too much of a gentleman to allow Luna to camp on his moth-eaten sofa. But he did burst into his bedroom every morning around seven in the morning, making a point of loudly getting clothes out of her wardrobe and flinging the curtains open. Every morning the daylight dazzled Luna, and only made her want to sink further into her pit of misery.

This morning, Rolf seemed particularly upbeat. "Come on, Luna, first day back at work, and all that. Time to get up!"

Luna thought once again of sitting in the tiny printing room for hours with Rolf, and she instantly started to foresee a migraine. "Rolf, I can't…"

Rolf's face seemed to drop. "But it's _The Quibbler_, Luna – remember, your life's hopes and dreams."

Luna didn't seem to remember making such a brass statement, but she decided to let it slide. "I'm just not feeling too great. Why don't you go and make a start, and I'll start right again next week," as it was nearly the weekend, she didn't see the point in starting on any other day but Monday. Rolf chewed his lip for a minute and leant on the windowsill, clearly thinking hard.

"Okay," he said finally. "We'll start Monday." Luna had noticed the emphasis on 'we'll'. She had been hoping that he would go along, and she could have his flat to herself, to mooch around in the duvet and then finally properly get up. She had decided in the middle of the night that she was going to make a rash escape from Rolf's flat, and head back to the Crouch Manor. She had started to worry about the fate of Barty, after not hearing from or of him for a while. Rolf seemed to be keeping her in the dark whenever she mentioned visiting The Burrow, or Grimmauld Place, where Harry and Ginny now resided together. Rolf seemed to notice her pondering all of this, and spoke again. "I mean, I can't leave you here in my flat alone, can I?"

"Why not?" she asked, burrowing her head under the sheets.

"Well, you're obviously depressed about the whole wedding thing," he muttered. Luna sighed. She wasn't depressed. Rolf didn't know what being depressed meant – she was just worried. But she didn't have the energy to argue with him, so she simply shrugged under the covers. "So, we're going to spend the day together. We'll have loads of fun – we can go out and get a Butterbeer, or do a bit of shopping, or maybe go to the ice-cream parlour…" Rolf drifted off into a rant about the new fancy ice-cream parlour, but Luna was hardly listening.

She knew what Rolf was trying to do, and it was a stupid idea. He was risking his life as well as hers, and she would never have an interest in him romantically – especially not now. Maybe once upon a time, before she even knew Barty – but not now. Rolf was trying to set up these lovely romantic scenarios, in the hope that she would forget all about her murderous maniac boyfriend and leap into Rolf's arms and they'd gallop off into the sunset together. The truth was, Luna was bitterly in love with her murderous maniac boyfriend, and Rolf's continuous attempts were starting to bother her.

But she was still too nice to say anything to him. She knew Rolf was only trying to be kind to her, and she couldn't pass up on kindness, so she agreed to let him whisk her into Diagon Alley.

oOo


	26. Diagon Alley

oOo

The weather was typical for early January. The skies were heavy and thick with approaching snow, with the white, wintery sun gleaming through the clouds. The air was cold, and the cobbles of Diagon Alley were frozen. There was a beautiful sheen of ice over everything the winter had touched.

Rolf had bundled up warm for the cold weather, and insisted that Luna wear a jumped and a jacket of his, as well as his only scarf and mitts. She was appreciative of this gesture, especially as she noticed Rolf's ears turning pink with the cold when they were walking through Diagon Alley. In reality, it had been a silly idea to come outside – especially when Rolf had been so hyped up about visiting the new Ice Cream Parlour. There was no way that Luna would be interested in eating ice cream in this weather.

She had half expected Diagon Alley to be quiet and empty due to the weather, but strangely enough, it was bustling with people. There were still Christmas songs chiming in the air, and Luna noticed a lot of people still wearing their Christmas jumpers. People were hurrying from shop to shop, clearly spending their Christmas money on new things. As they walked past the broomstick shop, Luna smiled as a small boy dashed out on one of those toy broomsticks. He was so heavily padded with clothing that he looked like a starfish. Rolf caught her looking, and laughed heartily. "Do you want children, Luna?"

Luna stared at him, slightly appalled. It seemed such a personal question, that she was surprised he had the audacity to ask her it so freely. She had also noticed his hand was brushing against hers several times while they were walking, and she shoved her hands in her pockets. "I…I don't think I've thought about it too much, Rolf."

Rolf looked back ahead, still smiling. He chatted to her animatedly while they walked, but Luna wasn't really listening. As they pushed through the crowds, she constantly kept feeling the same jerk of shock – every now and then, there would be a flick of light brown, straw like hair; the odd glint of a pair of deep, dark eyes; a swish of the tail of a trench coat turning the corner. Luna was seeing Barty everywhere – in the faces of men around Diagon Alley that she had never met before.

She was terribly worried about him, but at the same time, she was glad she had the few days away from him to collect her thoughts. She was sure Barty would be doing the same thing, as he hadn't made any attempt to contact her.

The horrible, niggling thought at the back of her mind struggled to push through: a sudden mental image of Barty, bleeding out in the bathtub, seared across her mind.

It was enough to make her stop and gasp quietly, her eyes flickering around the street as if she was hoping he would materialize and prove to her that he was fine, and _alive_.

Rolf stopped too, and looked at her, worry spreading across his sleepy features. "Luna? Are you alright?"

"Yeah…" Luna swallowed, and placed a hand on her neck, rubbing at her throat carefully. Her airways seemed tight and there was a lump in her throat. "Can we go to that Ice Cream Parlour you keep talking about? I think I need to sit down."

oOo

Coincidentally, Barty was spending the day in Diagon Alley as well.

The last few days for him had been a nightmare. When he finally awoke from his stupefied state, he was back at his home, laid on the living room floor besides a mouldy old boot. He assumed the Weasley's had unceremoniously sent him back by Portkey. Anger had spread over him like a disease when he realised Luna was nowhere to be seen, and he had kicked the Portkey so hard that it flew through the window, shattering the glass.

His first reaction was to find Neville, and kill him. Then he would find all of the Weasley's, and kill them. Then he would find Luna and bring her back – his plan didn't really go much further than that. But, as he was about to storm out of the house to apparate, his mind concentrated on Luna. He remembered how angry she had been at the wedding, how she had clutched at Neville Longbottom and cried. It was _Barty's _fault that she had reacted like that.

Barty had sat down on the sofa when he realised what he was doing. Running around like a maniac wasn't going to do him any favours. So instead, he had taken out some parchment and wrote a very long letter to the Healer he saw at the Healing Clinic – Doctor Babar.

The letter went on for pages and pages. He knew that he was due to see the Healer soon anyway, but he needed some way of venting his troubles. As he finished the letter, having described everything that had happened – from his suicide attempt, the Calming Drought not working, and finally to harassing Neville at the wedding – there were tears streaming down his face. He had sent the letter off to Doctor Babar with a heavy heart, and hoped that he would respond quickly, before he was stabbed with the motivation to do something dangerous.

Doctor Babar did better than respond quickly – he actually showed up at Barty's house. He came inside and talked to Barty for a long, long time. He explained that Barty was suffering a relapse, which was perfectly normal, and the Calming Drought probably wasn't working well enough for him. So, he wrote up a recipe for another potion, which was, in his words: "like a Calming Drought, but a bit stronger, and more central to your emotional changes."

He told Barty not to worry about Luna, and to spend the time away from her to think about her needs as well as his own. Barty had nodded in agreement, and promised to visit Diagon Alley for the potion ingredients in the next few days.

Which led him to being here, in the crowded street, searching for the apothecary. He was hoping the shopkeeper would tell him how to brew the potion – if not brew it for him. While Barty was extraordinarily clever and perfectly adept at mixing the most complicated potions, his recent depression seemed to be rendering him immobile in most aspects. It had taken him all his energy just to leave the house this morning – the only motivation was the simple fact that he desperately needed to come for these ingredients.

The plump woman in the apothecary was kind enough. He was glad, as he'd been expecting everyone to give him the same, merciless looks. The look that told him they thought he was up to something, or still as dark as he had been before. A flicker of recognition did grace the shopkeepers features when Barty walked into her store, but she smiled brightly nonetheless.

He showed her the recipe for the potion. As it was a medicinal potion, she told Barty she would need a Healer's signature in order for him to purchase some of the ingredients. She found it hilariously funny to discover that Doctor Babar titled himself as 'Doctor'.

"It's a muggle title, that," she told Barty, even though he was perfectly aware. "Do you know why he calls himself that, and not Healer?"

Barty pursed his lips. He just wanted to buy his ingredients and leave, not chat with this woman. But she had been so kind to him, and kindness was something that he wasn't getting often, since being released from Azkaban. So he smiled falsely, and racked his brains for the answer that Doctor Babar had told him when he was here. "He works with muggles as well. He's a Healer of all trades, but he works more with muggles than wizards, so he uses the title of Doctor."

The shopkeeper looked interested, but she didn't press him for more information, simply allowing him to buy his ingredients. As he left, she smiled brightly and waved him out of the door.

It had been easier than he thought. Even though Barty kept thinking he was seeing Luna everywhere – every now and then, there would be the sight of someone's blonde hair under their winter hats, or an airy laugh that he associated only with Luna – he had managed to get through the chore of visiting Diagon Alley.

He was passing through the crowd, ready to head back to the Leaky Cauldron, when he came past the new Ice Cream Parlour. He looked on at the place amusedly, taking in the gaudy, bright coloured sign and the chequered flooring on the outside area. He looked around at the tables – there was warmth coming from the direction of the parlour, and he noticed that it was because the whole of the outside seating area had some kind of charm placed on it, making warm air seep from a haze of misty clouds that hung over it. He heard that airy laugh again, and his chest constricted.

oOo

Luna was enjoying a hot cocoa drink at the Ice Cream Parlour. She was glad that the place sold something other than ice cream, and had her hands cupped around her warm mug gratefully. Rolf had insisted that he pay for her too, and she kept thanking him, much to his (pretend) annoyance.

Strangely enough, Luna was finding Rolf quite funny. She had forced herself to listen to the story he had been telling while they were walking through Diagon Alley, and she noticed that he could tell a pretty good joke. He pulled faces and gestured wildly with his arms while he emphasized on a particular subject, making Luna laugh out loud.

It was nice to laugh. Nice to be sat here with a friend, and nice to pretend like her life was normal.

oOo

Barty had seen Luna sitting at the ice cream parlour, bundled up warmly in her winter clothes. The boy – Rolf – was sitting beside her, making shapes with his arms and rolling his eyes into the back of his head as he spoke. Luna – beautiful, beautiful Luna…

She looked _radiant_. Her cheeks were flushed red with the cold, and she was laughing loudly at whatever Rolf had said. She was looking at him, her eyes bright with amusement, and rubbing her mug with her gloved hands as she took a long drink from it. To put it bluntly, Luna was _glowing_. Barty realised in that moment just how much he loved her.

He hadn't seen her laugh like that, or look at him like that before. She looked so normal, behaving normal in a café bar with her friend – a boy that was her own age, too. Barty could leave her now; push her to the back of his mind. Go on with his life, and let Luna go on with hers. She could be happy, no, she could be _normal_. All he wanted was for her to be happy, and even though it pained him to think of never seeing her again, he knew he had to stop being selfish.

Barty was about to swallow the lump in his throat and sadly vanish out of Luna's life, when he saw Rolf lean across to Luna as she was laughing, and kiss her on the lips.


	27. The Killing Curse

**A.N:**We're coming towards the end of the Unfixables now, readers! I would love some feedback on the last couple of chapters!

* * *

Barty saw red.

His vision melted. He couldn't see anything else, but Rolf with his mouth pressed against Luna's. _His _Luna. Anger pooled in his stomach like acidic bile, and spread across his entire body. His brain became void; he was acting purely on emotion.

It was like he couldn't connect his head to his body. He was walking actively towards Luna and Rolf: they were all he could see. He wanted to tear him limb from limb.

oOo

Luna had been laughing open-mouthed when Rolf kissed her. It was a wet, uncalled for kiss, and she was shocked. It took her about a minute to pull her head away, and she was about to stand up and shout at him, when she saw him.

Barty was speed walking towards them. He looked _terrifying_. She opened her mouth to say his name, but noticed that no words would come out. His eyes were bright with insanity – she was almost sure that there was nothing she could do to calm him down this time. Clearly he had seen what Rolf did. There was nothing she could do.

Other people were slowing down and noticing the way Barty was steaming towards them. Customers that had been seated around Luna and Rolf were staggering to their feet, ushering their children out of the way. Luna noticed that Barty's crazy gaze was focused on Rolf, and she bit her bottom lip. "Rolf…"

Rolf was staring right at Barty, as Luna was. His voice wobbled when he replied. "Uh-huh."

"Rolf. Run."

"What?"

"You need to run."

"Why? Run _where_?"

Barty had stopped about five metres away from them, and had thrust his hand into his pocket. "Rolf, _run_!" shrieked Luna suddenly, and Rolf didn't need to be told again. He sped off in the opposite direction at breakneck speed, but Barty's eyes followed him. He retrieved his wand from his pocket at a strangely slow speed, and aimed it directly at Rolf's back.

"Barty, no!" Luna cried out, fishing in her pocket for her own wand. She had to struggle to pull a glove off, as the material was causing her wand to slip out of her gasp. She cursed in anger as she dropped her wand, but picked it back up just in time.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Barty hissed, earning gasps of horror from many onlookers. A jet of bright, green light sped towards Rolf.

"PROTEGO!" screamed Luna in a high pitched voice, sending her shield charm in Rolf's general direction.

The charm made immediate contact with Barty's killing curse, and there was a moment where the spells seemed to swallow each other up. Then, a millisecond later, the combined spells exploded in mid-air, sending shards of electric coloured light in all directions.

Luna ducked quickly, but she noticed a jet of light spear Rolf between the shoulder blades. She looked over at Barty, and he had collapsed to the floor, his eyes rolling and his mouth hanging open. His wand had clattered to the pavement.

She jumped up out of her hiding spot, and started running towards Barty's limp body immediately. There were still jets of light flying from the source of the explosion, and Luna noticed in horror that they were hitting other people, innocent shoppers from Diagon Alley. Tears filled Luna's eyes as she headed towards Barty.

She didn't know what to think.

Right before she reached Barty, a jet of light hit her square in the stomach. She gasped out in pain, and looked down at the space where the spell had made contact with her. Slowly, as if she was defrosting, her body tumbled to the ground, where she landed, and motionless, only mere centimetres away from Barty.

Then everything went dark.

oOo

Luna opened her eyes groggily. The first thing she became aware of was the strong smell of disinfectant, and general cleanliness. In her line of view was a pair of ugly, orange patterned curtains.

She was lying in a hospital bed. There was a large, dark-skinned Healer bustling around her, and Luna croaked to get her attention. "Miss…"

The nurse spun around with strange elegance for a woman of her size. "Well, good morning Miss Luna – only three days later!"

"What?" Luna struggled to sit up, and the Healer helped her, plumping the cushions up behind her and pulling a breakfast tray onto her lap. There was a plate of toast, a punnet of strawberries, and a cup of pumpkin juice. Luna ate quickly, becoming suddenly aware of how hungry she was.

"If you want anything else to eat, just give me a call, Miss Luna. I'm Joyce, be the way," the Healer scooped up Luna's empty tray and made to leave. "You need your strength now, after all!"

Luna raised her eyebrows, not quite understanding what she was getting at. "Thank you for looking after me, Healer Joyce, but I think it's about time I left. I feel fine, now, actually. I just need to get back home."

Joyce placed the tray down tentatively and sat down in the seat beside Luna. "I'm no Healer, honey. I'm just a volunteer, so you can just call me Joyce. Secondly, you aren't to move for at least another few days."

But Luna wasn't listening now, as something else had just sprung to mind. "Merlin! Barty! Where's Barty? Where's Rolf? Is he…" Luna dived to her feet, and realised she was only wearing a skimpy hospital gown. She looked around wildly for her clothes, but they were nowhere in sight. Suddenly, Joyce reached over and picked Luna up by the waist, tucking her back under the covers as easily and neatly as if she were a toddler. "Joyce. I need to go see Barty," as she tried to struggle out of the restricting blankets, a sudden, white hot pain seared through her stomach, and she cried out in shock, clutching at her abdomen. "Where is he?"

Joyce looked uncomfortable. "I'm not supposed to be the one to tell you this, Luna. A Ministry Official will be along soon, I'm sure." She stood up, making one last comment that Luna remain where she was, then whisked off down the corridor.

For what seemed like hours, Luna stared up at the tiled ceiling. She was sure she drifted in and out of sleep, but nothing changed. No one came to see her, apart from Joyce, who routinely took blood and cast healing spells over her stomach.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, someone cleared their throat. "Miss Lovegood."

Luna looked over to where the curtains split, and saw the man she recognised as John Dawlish standing there. She knew who he was from when she first taken by Barty, and he came to the door a few times. She smiled at the man weakly, and he sat down in the available seat. "Miss Lovegood, my name is John Dawlish, and I was the watchwizard for Mr Bartemius Crouch Junior."

"_Was_?" Luna felt panic rising in her neck. "What do you mean, he _was_?!"

Dawlish held up his hands to calm her down. "Please, Miss Lovegood. Relax – we need to discuss the matter appropriately. If you get stressed out, you may only cause yourself further damage."

"What happened?" Luna asked him desperately.

Dawlish pulled out a piece of parchment from his coat and began to scan it with his eyes. "Well, as you know, you shot a Shield Charm at Mr Rolf Scamander, right as Barty used the Killing Curse on the same Mr Rolf Scamander – at approximately twelve fifteen. The Shield Charm acted as some defence, but naturally wasn't much of a match against the Killing Curse. I imagine it's because you were in distress when you used the charm, which will have reduced its potency. So, the Shield Charm collided with the Killing Curse, and both spells seemed to explode in the air, sending more dangerous sparks of both the spells in all directions. Rolf was in closest range, and he was hit with a particularly large dose."

"Is he dead?" Luna felt her throat tighten. Rolf irritated her, and she had been angry at him for kissing her. But she didn't want him _dead_.

"No. But he is in critical condition and been kept in an Intensive Care Unit."

"Oh…" Luna bit her lip, making a mental note to visit him as soon as she was discharged.

"Barty was also hit with the explosion, but it was no more dangerous than what hit you. He has already been discharged and he's being restrained in a secure wizarding psychiatric ward."

"What's going to happen to him?" Luna croaked, feeling a lump in her throat. She already knew the answer.

"Well, he's going to be sent back to Azkaban as soon as he's medicated."

Luna clapped a hand to her mouth, and couldn't stop the tears this time.

"But don't think that's the end. Of course, due to the nature of the crime, he should be sent there regardless. The conditions of his release from Akzaban were that he was by no means whatsoever to use an Unforgivable Curse. He had to integrate normally into society. So far, he has managed to fuck up both of those conditions. He made a terrible name for himself by seducing you and having you live with him, and to top it off he went and used the Killing Curse on an eighteen-year old boy. So, his chances aren't light. However…"

Dawlish began to unravel another piece of parchment at a very slow rate.

"We received a letter from his Healer, Doctor Babar. He thinks that the fault is the Ministry's – for not providing him with adequate help quickly enough. He believes this relapse could have been prevented if the Ministry were quicker to jump to help him, instead of just passing him to the nearest Healer that would help," Dawlish looked squeamish, as if he was trying not to feel guilty.

Luna looked at him tenderly. "Why didn't the Ministry help him more?"

"You have to understand, Luna," Dawlish threw his parchment down onto his lap. "This, with Barty – it has scared a lot of people, okay. The Wizarding World…we're still quite behind the times. People don't refer to mental health problems as a condition – its insanity, and they must be imprisoned for it. That's why Barty is going to struggle in his trial."

"He has a trial?" Luna sat up, feeling brighter immediately. There was a chance.

"The Ministry has taken into account the information and more provided by Doctor Babar, and they are giving him the chance to plead insanity in front of the Wizengamot. He won't be released back into the public, but if Doctor Babar wins Barty's case, he could be sectioned to the psychiatric ward, where he will be given the chance of continuous, around-the-clock help."

That sounded like a _much _better idea. "So, why can't the Wizengamot realise that the ward would be the best option for Barty?"

"There is a huge generation difference. The majority of the Wizengamot are older, and very medieval in their ways. It will take a lot to bring down the views of the Court." Dawlish stood up, and started digging around in his pockets again, until he pulled out a neat white letter. He handed it to Luna. "This is the date and time for Barty's trial. You are to present yourself as witness and defence to Barty Crouch. Due to the nature of your condition, you are allowed to bring with you one person as emotional and physical assistance," with that last comment, Dawlish bade her goodbye, and vanished from sight.

Luna sat back against the pillows. So Barty had a chance to get out of Azkaban. She wished he could see him, but he would surely be staying in the prison until his trial. She opened the letter and read it carefully, starting to think about who she would take as her entourage.

"…due to the nature of your condition," she read out from the letter. Why was everyone going on about her condition? She was aching a bit, but it wasn't like she was in critical condition, like Rolf. Joyce suddenly bustled through the curtain with another dinner tray.

"Come on, Missy Luna! Time for your dinner," she plucked the letter out of Luna's fingers and placed it on her bedside table, and put the tray in her lap. Luna pushed it away at first. Her stomach was in knots, there was no way she would possibly be able to eat anything. "Don't look at me like that, Luna. You need to eat up, get your strength."

"Why do you keep _saying _that? I'm fine, I've eaten enough today."

"Luna! I'm not going to leave until you've eaten up. You're not leaving until I think you're feeding yourself and your babies properly—"

"What?" Luna interjected.

"Didn't you know?" Joyce was smiling brightly. "Luna, you're pregnant!"

"Oh my…" Luna fell back on the cushions.

"Pregnant with _twins_! Isn't that marvellous?"

"Marvellous…" and Luna fainted right there in her bed.

oOo


End file.
